I Think I Would Remember
by GentlemanAdventurer
Summary: "I think I would remember killing Jessica..." Jess was wandering the mine, broken and alone, when she had a chance encounter with the last person she expected to see. Now they have only each other to rely on while they hope for help to find them, but old wounds have bred bitterness and neither of them is very good at speaking straight. Josh/Jess
1. It's Strange

_A/N: Well, I've gone and done it. I had an idea hit me out of the blue and now I've fallen into rarepair hell. Come join me and see if I can actually pull this off while keeping them in character. For context, this assumes that Mike was quick enough to save Jess from dying and that the diary was found._

 _Since I'm still in the process of finishing Broken Parable, updates to this story may not be very consistent. Now, this doesn't mean months between chapters - more like there might be three in two days or one over the course of two weeks. It's not getting abandoned, regardless of whether anyone else is as interested in this ship as I am. I'm content to suffer alone if need be. 3_

 **Chapter 1:**

 **It's Strange**

Jessica had never been this cold.

Okay, that wasn't entirely true. It had probably been colder when she was being dragged through the snow by her hair, but that was different. That was freezing, but it had been immediate and superficial. Her skin had been nearly burned by the ice and snow, but her heart had been pounding, her blood pumping. It was fierce and furious, but not like this.

This cold was deeper. She felt it in her bones. Past the point of her teeth chattering, she simply stumbled along, numb. Finding the boots and coat had helped, but not by much. The cold was in her veins now. Her tongue was cold. If it was still there. She wasn't sure she could feel it. Of course, it didn't particularly matter. There was no one to talk to down here.

"When I leave this world, I'll have no regrets."

God, she'd been so fucking confident when she'd put that as her yearbook quote. She'd loved the attitude behind it, the mental image it provoked. Well, and she loved Beyoncé, but that was beside the point. She'd planned to live by that quote.

No regrets.

But here she was, staring death in the face—or trying to—and she had nothing but regrets.

The dim tunnel wavered in front of her eyes and she paused, leaning heavily on the wall. Memories came in fits and starts, leaving her unsure what was real and what was a nightmare she'd concocted in her own head. Something strong and grey and almost scaly. Sharp teeth and wild eyes. A butterfly. A lot of butterflies. Screaming. Deer. Snowballs. Mike. Emily. Matt. Desire and warmth and the crackle of fire. It was all there, in her brain, but she just couldn't get it to sync properly. The order was off, the details were wrong. Maybe. Probably.

Instead, whenever she chased after one snippet of memory, she found her mind in a different place. Like remembering the time she got busted for lying about the pudding cups in 2nd grade or how much she really, really wanted a piece of warm peach cobbler. It was less than helpful.

It was all she could do to keep walking, one hand desperately holding the coat closed tight, the other hand holding the lantern. One foot. Then the other. Repeat as needed. The boots scuffled on the ground as she trudged slowly forward, barely able to lift her feet clear. She was stumbling, she could it, could see it in the way the tunnel wove dizzily around her.

In the distance, something clanked and there was a hoarse scream. The sound made her insides seize up, all her muscles tensing, urging her to run.

It came again, closer this time. The lantern rattled in her shaking hand.

She'd have to run. She wouldn't let it take her again. She'd never survive. There was no Mike this time, no shouting hero leaping after her with a gun.

The only option was to keep from being caught at all.

She ran. Or at least tried to. Her body was refusing to listen to her commands. She wasn't an athlete any more, but she had danced for long enough that she knew she should be able to do this. It was such a simple thing, to run. And yet her muscles were locking up, weakening. It was like one of those nightmares where you just couldn't get away.

The scream shook the air again, even closer. She could hear the sound of something piercing rocks, a strange scrape and thunk that was like nothing she'd ever heard before. It was coming.

It was coming.

Jess shook her head, stumbling as she lurched forward. What the fuck had her life become?

A hand seized her hard around the arm and yanked. Her voice was ruined; her yelp was no more than a choked gasp. Another freezing hand latched over her mouth and she was pulled tight against someone. The sudden motion made her head ache and she shut her eyes against the suddenly dancing light of the lantern as it swam through the air in front of her.

Breath stirred the air by her ear. "Red light, green light. It's just like red light, green light. Don't let them see you wobble."

She was too dizzy to do much more than lean against whoever was holding her. They didn't seem to be immediately dangerous and she just didn't have it in her to struggle. Especially not when that thing was so near. So she just stayed as still as she could, breathing as slowly as possible against the hands of her savior—or was it 'captor'?

Really, it didn't matter.

Because… of course. Of course, she'd die. She should have known she'd die up here. It was kind of fitting, in a morbid, gross way. It would be nice to die wearing more clothes, she thought vaguely, though she imagined Emily would have some choice, biting words on that exact topic. It'd be an interesting funeral service, if they ever found her body.

And then it was there. The scraping, scrambling, hissing thing was right on top of them. It loomed in her vision, seeming to pulse and shift. If she'd had more energy, she might have struggled or twitched or done something to move, but now she felt almost numb to the reality of the razor-sharp teeth crowded into its mouth, its wide, unblinking eyes, the butterfly tattoo on its… wait, a butterfly tattoo?

Before she had a chance to focus on that particular thought, it flickered in her mind and was gone. As the thought vanished, so did the thing, hurling itself away from them and down the passageway with another shriek, vanishing into the darkness.

After a long, tense moment of silence, she felt the person holding her sag. Their arms dropped, letting her go. She stumbled away, catching herself hard on a rough wooden post, and turned, lifting her lantern and peering forward.

For a few seconds, all her eyes could do was track movement as a humanoid figure paced in a tight circle, hands gesticulating wildly. Then their circle took them forward, more into the path of the light. Jess took stock, trying to piece individual details together to identify them. Dark, short-cropped hair. Shadowed eyes that seemed intense at best—and entirely mad at worst. Strong shoulders. Angular jaw. Taller than her, but not colossally so. Not like Mike, at least, who towered over her.

The figure was muttering something under their breath. She caught the edge of a few words. Matter. Video. If. Ice.

Jess caught her breath. It didn't make sense. None of this made sense, of course, but this… this really didn't make sense? How could he be down here? Why would he be down here, alone and clearly losing it? Maybe it was all in her head. "Josh?" she croaked, the lantern rattling in her hand.

He stilled, slowly turning his head to look at her.

Dots of black were dancing across her vision, like the shadows of the mine were creeping over her, stealing what little comfort the lantern gave her. There was a dull roaring in her ears. "Do you—" she asked Josh faintly, reaching out blindly with her free hand for something to use for support. Hadn't there been a pole or something a second ago? This mine was playing all kinds of stupid fucking tricks on her. The sound was growing louder, pressing in in her. It seemed almost familiar. "Do you hear the ocean, Josh?"

Then everything went black completely.


	2. Waiting Here

**Chapter Two:**

 **Waiting Here**

There was pressure on her face. Feather-light fingertips brushed along her right cheek, followed the curve of her jaw, and smoothed over her forehead. The touch was warmer than the air, but still felt colder than she would have expected. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at shadows shifting on rock. It took a moment for any memories to come back.

The mine.

She was in the mine.

Letting her head fall to the side, she saw a hand withdraw quickly, dropping back onto the crossed legs of Josh Washington. He looked awful: drawn and pale, his usual tawny complexion looking sickly and almost grey in the flickering lantern light. "Josh?" Her voice was still wrecked. It came out barely more than a whisper, but in the near-silence of the mine, it was enough.

He lifted a hand and reached forward, fingers twitching slightly. Then he seemed to think better of it and sat on his hands.

"Josh, what's—what's going on?" Wow. She hated whatever was happening to her. Jess didn't like not being able to talk the way she wanted to. She was good at talking, good at flirting and insulting. It was how she'd gotten out of one more than one instance of unpleasantness in the past and she felt obnoxiously vulnerable with her words coming so stubbornly.

"Sorry. Shouldn't touch people without asking. It's incredibly rude. Mom would be so annoyed with me." He pulled a face and then something made him jump. He craned his head back to peer behind him.

It didn't look like there was anything there, but she wasn't really in any kind of reliable shape to tell. Slowly she shoved herself up onto her elbows, her entire body complaining loudly. She took a deep breath, counting to ten, to try to calm the wave of nausea that washed over her. Her left forearm throbbed and every time she took a breath, she felt a sharp, piercing pain in her chest. "Josh, where are we?"

"Mines, I think. Maybe the forest. The mine is in the forest, though, so I guess both answers are probably correct." He scratched his head distractedly, still glancing over his shoulder every few seconds.

"Do you hear something? What's going on?" Jess pushed herself up to sit and gasped as pain lanced through her head.

Josh's head jerked back around. "You okay?"

She stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if he was being sarcastic, but he just looked worried and jumpy. Slowly, she shook her head, feeling as if her brain was sloshing around in her skull. "I don't think so." She winced the moment the words left her mouth, which only made her head hurt more. Every tiny movement felt magnified ten times over. It was like the worst hangover she had ever had—tenth grade, after the first time she got carried away and ended up drinking half a bottle of Jägermeister and vomiting in Sarah's bathroom sink—but made infinitely worse by the cold and the pain in her body.

His hand hovered over her shoulder for a moment, then he patted her back gently. "There, there?" he offered awkwardly.

Jess laughed, then hissed in pain. "Don't make me laugh, dick."

"I'll try," he said with a smile, then jumped again. "Go _away_ ," he muttered angrily to the shadows behind him.

"Is someone there, Josh?" She pressed her palm to her forehead, begging the pain to go away, at least a little. "I don't see anyone."

Frowning, he pulled his knees into his chest and tucked his chin against them. It gave the usually closed off, in-control man a childish air that she found comforting and unsettling in equal measure. "Someone's always there," he said softly, then chuckled. "You look good for a dead girl, you know?"

"Uh… what?"

"For a corpse. You're not rotting and falling apart like the other two. You look..." His eyes swept up and down her body. Despite the coat and boots, she felt incredibly exposed. "…dirty. But good."

She let herself fall back onto her back and the pain in her chest eased slightly. "Gee, thanks."

-o-

The next time she opened her eyes, she was alone. It was quiet in the mine, but not as quiet as she would have expected. Somewhere in the darkness she could hear something dripping and every now and then something would creak ominously. Jess wasn't sure if her eyes were adjusting or if there was some faint light filtering in from some unseen source, but she could make out the general shapes around her: the mine cart, what looked like an assortment of busted tools, other various useless crap.

Her head still ached, but it wasn't quite as sharp and immediate as it had been. Now it was like a few hours into a bad hangover. Ugh. She really shouldn't be such an expert on the stages of hangovers, but her drunken self did not think about the future and certainly didn't remember to drink water. She was lucky if her drunken self remembered to take off her shoes before she fell into bed.

If she got out of here alive, she was going to make changes.

 _When_.

When she got out of here alive, she was going to make changes. Give to charity and eat healthy and be nicer to her parents and shit. She snorted. Like that would be enough to get the powers-that-be to help her out.

Down the tunnel, she heard something thump to the ground and jumped, wincing as the pain in her chest flared again. "Josh?" she called softly into the dark. "Is that you?"

There was no answer. Slowly and carefully, she tried to work her way up to sitting, then standing. It helped that there was a support pillar near her; she clung to it, her legs cramped and body trembling. Honestly, she was surprised she was even alive. Her fingers and toes felt vaguely numb and, though her head might be mildly improved, her chest still hurt viciously.

Somewhere in the darkness, there was another thump and a clanging sound. Jess's grip on the post tightened reflexively. Was it the thing? That monster thing? Was it back? God, it was like a nightmare that she just couldn't seem to wake up from. Normally nightmares like this turned sort of fun—something in her made scary monster dreams into an adventure rather than a terror—but this was different. It was like one of Josh's stupid fucking horror movies.

"Josh?" She didn't dare speak too loudly, which was probably good, since her throat still felt raw and rough.

A figure emerged suddenly from the darkness and she yelped, then clapped a hand over her mouth in a pitiful attempt to stop the sound.

Josh took a few more steps and tipped his head to the side, curiously. "Oh. You're still here."

"Josh? Jesus, you asshole. You scared the shit out of me!" It took a moment to process his comment. "What do you mean 'you're still here'? Where the hell else would I go? The mall?" Actually, that sounded amazing. She wanted one of those buttery, salty pretzels from the food court. With a side of that nacho cheese stuff that she was pretty sure had nothing in common with actual cheese.

He walked up to her and touched her face, his rough palm cupping her cheek for a moment. Before she could say or do anything, he withdrew his hand and backed up again. "Sorry. Had to make sure you were really here."

"Uh… okay?" Jess took a deep breath, wincing as the pain flared again. "Josh, what's going on? Why are we in the mine? How do we get out of here?"

Josh flopped to the ground casually, sprawling back. He gestured vaguely to the tunnel around them. "We don't. We die."

"Bullshit." She blinked repeatedly, trying to get her vision to focus in the near-blackness. What the hell was he wearing? "What the hell are you wearing?"

He glanced down at himself, made a face, and then broke into a wide grin. "A terrible idea, is what. What the hell are _you_ wearing? Not exactly en vogue, is it?"

Hugging her arm to her stomach, she glared at him. "I had to find something, didn't I? I ended up down here in…" Despite everything, she was blushing. "I was almost naked, okay? I grabbed the first thing I could find down here. Tell me where there's a change of clothes and I'll make myself more presentable. _Dick_ ," she added, for good measure.

They stayed like that in silence for a while. Then, finally, Josh spoke again. "So… you aren't dead?" She might have thought he was being glib if it wasn't for the slight tremble in his voice.

"Not yet. Apparently I'm tough as shit." Jess tried to take an unsupported step and staggered. In a flash, he was on his feet and beside her, holding her elbow supportively. "Or maybe not."

"Mike said you were dead," he said quietly, helping her cross to a crate and sit. Gesturing to his face, he smiled humorlessly. "Not very happy about it, either."

She squinted at him. In the dim, barely-there light, it was hard to see what he was referring to. "I can't see you very well."

"Black eye. Probably. Something. Basically, he decked me for killing you."

Jess blinked at him, the words not quite making sense in her head. "Killing me?"

"He seemed to think I was responsible for you dying? You keep insisting you're alive though, so I suppose he was mistaken."

She thought back, trying for the umpteenth time to piece together her memories in some semblance of a correct order. Mike, fire, taking her clothes off… Her phone? Something with her phone? She'd lost it—oh her parents were going to fucking murder her—but then she'd gotten it back? Jess rubbed her forehead. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she focus? Cold. She remembered being dragged through the woods in her underwear. She remembered Mike shouting. She remembered the scent of pine and then rotting wood and rusty metal. Eventually she just shrugged. "He must have thought I died. I nearly did. I think it had something to do with that thing that nearly got us before, when—"

"Hannah."

"Um… what?" Jess stared at him, at the shifting mass of shadows that was Josh.

She heard him suck in a breath. "Hannah," he said, voice clipped and short. "It's Hannah."

"Oh wow. You are super crazy, aren't you?"

"I'm _not crazy_ ," he snapped. "Fuck you. Don't say that."

"I—sorry. I just mean… how can it be Hannah?" Jess tried to keep her voice gentle, but wasn't sure it was working. "Hannah's dead, Josh."

He shook his head violently. "Nope. Nope. No she's not. Wish she was—never thought I'd say that—but I really wish she was. Instead she's a monster. Awesome." Josh ran both hands over his head, mussing his already disheveled hair. "Too bad Dad's not here to see it. Honestly. It would be amazing fodder for his next flick. You should see her."

"I did see her," she said softly, closing her eyes. _Hannah_. Was this for real? Was that really Hannah? Had Hannah somehow survived what… what Jess did?

"Oh yeah." He clambered to his feet and vanished into the darkness. Then there was a click and a tiny burst of bright white-orange light. He lit the lantern and carried it over. "There. Now you can see everything."

After time for her eyes to adjust, she could. She wasn't entirely sure she was happy about it, though. The light seemed to catch in Josh's face, throwing his already deep-set eyes into shadow and setting his mouth in a dangerous line. He looked strange, almost feral. Looking down at herself, she sighed. She was filthy and covered in cuts and bruises. No wonder it hurt to move. Her bare legs were streaked with dirt, her nails torn and ragged from grabbing for anything she could as she was pulled through the snow. She patted her hair and flinched as her fingers met a massive contusion on the back of her head.

Jess would be the first to admit that she didn't know much about medicine or first aid, but she at least knew that dirt in open wounds was a very bad thing. "Is there water around here, somewhere?" she asked Josh.

He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. "Heated pool out back. Shower before you get in, though."

"Very funny," she muttered, climbing slowly to her feet once more. "Help me?" It occurred to her that she might be putting herself totally at the monster's—Hannah's?—mercy, but honestly, if she was going to find them again, it wouldn't matter where Jess was. She was in no shape to run or do anything to escape. At this point, she was more worried about infections than she was about being eaten. At least being eaten would be quick.

Despite his weird, nonsensical jokes, Josh grabbed the lantern and slid his arm around her shoulders, holding her upright as they walked down the tunnel.

One thing at a time, Jess told herself as firmly as she could. One thing at a time.

-o-

The water was freezing and she wasn't entirely sure it was totally clean, but she was at least able to remove the worst of the dirt and rubble from her injuries. She didn't quite dare dunking her head, but she washed her face as much as she could. The feel of the water at least confirmed that she was definitely alive. She was pretty sure that if she was dead, she wouldn't hate it was much as she did. She had stripped of the coat and boots, but kept her underwear on. She wasn't shy about her body, but she also wasn't keen to be totally naked down here either.

Josh paced along the side of the water, muttering quietly to himself. She studied his figure. He hadn't really answered her question. Why was he wearing that? It looked like an old pair of overalls. A button-down shirt and something underneath, too. It was hard to make out details. Not that it mattered, really. But when had he changed? She remembered him in a plaid shirt and a vest, looking cute and wintery.

She was just relieved she wasn't alone down here.

"Hey, Josh?"

His head came up quickly, entire body tensing, then he seemed to recognize her and relaxed. "Yes ma'am."

"Can you—can you help me?" _Fuck_ she hated this. She hated asking for help. And she barely knew Josh, which made it even worse. "I'm having trouble getting back—" Jess gestured towards the coat and boots several feet back. Leaving them there had seemed like a good idea at the time, since they would definitely stay dry, but now they seemed miles away.

His body seemed to radiate heat and it was all she could do not to lean into him. She shuddered as he helped her over to the coat. Sliding her damp feet into the boots, she sighed. "We n-need to get out of h-here," she told Josh, her teeth chattering. "Before we freeze to death."

He watched her without speaking, then turned away, undoing the shoulder straps on his overalls.

"What are you doing?" Wordlessly, he stripped off the denim button-up shirt and thrust it towards her. She took it slowly and slid it on. It was still warm and smelled like charcoal and metal and a musky scent that must be Josh himself. "Thank you," she said softly, buttoning it. The coat went over the ensemble, but the addition of the denim made her feel remarkably better.

Josh buckled the straps over the thermal he'd had on under the button-up and flashed her a quick smile. "You look good in my clothes."

She smirked. Clean and slightly warmer, she felt far more herself. Compliments helped too. "Of course I do. I look good in anything."

His smile faded and he spun, vanishing out of the circle of lantern light. Off in the darkness, Jess heard him talking, mumbling, and snarling. She could only catch the edge of words and she sighed, carefully stooping down to snag the lantern's handle. Now to figure out the next step.

-o-

Josh slid down the wall to sit next to her. She opened her eyes and glanced over at him. "You're back."

"Back," he said dully. His head fell back to rest on the rocky surface. "Like there was ever anywhere to go."

Curiosity pricked at her and she gave in. Worse than the hunger or the cold was the tedium of being down here and unable to really move. There had been no sign of the Hannah Monster, nor of anyone else. Where were the others? She felt like she was going crazy imagining all the possibilities—monster attacks, avalanches, storms, and more danced around her head in dizzying circles. Better to have Josh snap at her for prying than to just continue to sit here in hopeless silence. "Who do you keep talking to?"

She saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, but he didn't answer.

"I mean, you keep wandering off and talking. There's no one here. So…?"

"Nope. No one there." He stretched his hands out in front of him, the fingers spread wide. She realized for the first time that he looked nearly as scraped up as she did. His lip was split, his palms skinned, dark bruises forming on his face. "You were right before, obviously. I am 'like _totally_ fucking nuts.'" He did a terrible valley girl voice and she scowled.

"I do not sound like that, asshole."

He shrugged. "It'd be funnier if you did."

"Dick."

"Correct again. From the mouths of babes."

Her scowl deepened. She hated being teased for her age, even if they were all in the same year in school. "I'm an adult."

"Sorry. My emphasis was wrong. From the mouths of _babes_ ," he restated, flashing her an exaggerated leer.

Jess rolled her eyes. "So, what, you see people who aren't there?"

His face seemed to close up on itself, his jaw clenching. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Hey, at least you're talking to me this time." He started to get up and she put her hand on his arm, trying to tug him back down. "No, please don't go. I'm sorry. I'm just…" _Scared_ was the word that sprang to her lips, but she bit back on it. You don't admit weakness. Not if you don't have to. "I'm just bored and curious. I'll stop."

He sat back down, long legs stretched out in front of him. "Good."

They sat in silence. She wondered how long the lantern would last. It had held out so far, but she wasn't really sure the time you could expect on that. Really, she wasn't even sure how long they'd been down here. It could have been hours, it could have been days. Her stomach ached for food. "I'm hungry."

Beside her, she felt him tense again. "I…" He hesitated. "Me too. I found… if it gets bad enough, there's…" He couldn't seem to find the words he wanted.

"What?"

His next words came out in a rush: "There's-a-body-and-I-guess-if-it-gets-bad-enough—"

She cut him off. "Wow. No. Nope. Don't even. Ew." Her empty stomach heaved at the thought. "Jesus Christ, Josh. Just… no. Why would you even—"

"I didn't say it was a good idea," he growled. "I just don't want to die down here. So if that means I go all Donner Party, then so be it."

"Josh, I will punch you in the fucking face before I let you eat a person."

"I'd like to see you try. You have the strength of an infant. Makes sense, since you're, what, twelve?"

Jess drove her elbow into his side as hard as she could. It probably wasn't actually that hard, but he grunted with the impact anyway, which made her feel better. "You are such a _dick_."

They lapsed back into silence, each lost in their own thoughts. She scooted over closer and let her head fall down to rest on his shoulder. Hearing him open his mouth to say something, she spoke up before he could. "I'm cold. You're probably cold. So just shut up and stay. "

He shut his mouth and stayed.


	3. In the Dark

**Chapter Three:**

 **In the Dark**

The lantern failed.

Even though she'd been waiting for it, it still came as a bit of a shock with the light stuttered and gave out. The wick was an orange spot in the darkness for a moment before fading out completely.

"Well shit," Jess said to it, layering as much annoyance into her voice as she could muster. It helped to be annoyed. It kept the fear at bay. The fact that there even was fear helped stoke her irritation. She didn't want to be afraid of the dark like a dumb fucking kid. She'd forced herself to get over that when she was eleven. Or, rather, she had forced herself to get good at hiding it. You couldn't go to a sleepover and demand a nightlight like some kind of baby. That was how you got laughed at. And no one laughed at Jessica Riley—she'd decided that early on. Better to be the one laughing than the one laughed at, even if that made you a bitch. There was really no way to win.

Of course, it didn't help that the light finally failed when Josh wasn't there. He'd wandered off into the tunnels somewhere again. She didn't remember him going, but maybe she'd dozed off for a while. It was hard to tell.

After not seeing or hearing the monster for so long, Jess was starting to wonder if it was coming back at all. She wasn't sure if she wanted it to come back or not. Somehow, the idea of it not returning was almost worse. That meant further isolation. And without the lantern, she wasn't sure how they were ever going to get out of the mine. She was getting hungrier every moment, but every time she thought of Josh's suggested 'solution,' nausea swept over her.

"Never thought I'd be _grateful_ for a gag reflex," she muttered, using the wall to pull herself to her feet. "At least now I know I'll never eat people. 'It's _people!'_ What's that from? Some dumb sci-fi thing? Great. And now you're talking to yourself. Just like—"

Shaking her head, she waited, hoping her eyes would adjust. There must be light coming from somewhere, though it was incredibly faint and must be far away. After a few minutes, she could make out the slight edges of shapes and, following the wall, she could avoid tripping over any of the random crap littering the tunnel. "Josh?" she called. "Josh, where did you go? If you went back and ate that guy, I swear to _god_ …"

From up ahead, she suddenly heard a ragged, choking sound. Staggering forward in what felt like a crude parody of a run, she rushed towards the noise, hoping she wasn't running straight into the monster's arms. No matter what Josh said, she still couldn't quite wrap her head around the idea of it being Hannah.

An amorphous shape on the ground near the wall, darker than the rest of the tunnel, was barely visible. Josh. He made another choking sound and she dropped heavily to her knees beside him.

"Josh? What's wrong?"

His voice was muffled. Closer, she could tell he had his face pressed against his drawn-in knees. "Nothing. Go away."

"There's nowhere to go. What's wrong?"

"Go. Away."

Jess shook her head. It didn't hurt quite as badly as it had the previous times. She hoped that was a good sign. Less pain meant recovery, right? "Fat chance. The lantern went out."

She scooted over to sit against the wall next to him and waited. When he didn't speak, she cast around for something to say. He was her only companion down here in hell and she certainly wasn't going to let him get all silent on her. Fuck that. Then she'd have to be alone with her own thoughts and that had not gone particularly well so far. She kept imagining Emily with her throat ripped out or Mike buried under a pile of rocks or Matt slowly freezing to death or—ugh. Anything was better than silence.

"So…" She remembered a question he'd never answered. "What are you wearing? It's not exactly… Well, it's really fucking weird. Overalls are not the best look on you."

He snorted softly but didn't lift his head. "So's a miner's coat."

"And you already gave me shit for it. _Without_ explaining what your outfit, by the way. Seriously. Why?"

Josh mumbled something but she couldn't make it out. Sighing, she copied his pose, drawing her knees into her chest and wrapping her arms around them tightly. She wasn't entirely sure whether she was actually getting warmer or if she was just getting used to being cold. "Okay. Don't tell me. That's fine."

He shifted positions and his arm shot out, elbow jabbing into her side. Pain flared, brighter and sharper than could possibly by caused by the impact of his arm, and she gasped.

His head came up at the sound. "Oh. Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you."

She took a breath, whimpering with every movement of her ribs. "I—it's fine." Should she be crying? Was she crying? She touched her cheeks, but they were dry. No tears were a good sign, right? It meant the pain can't be that bad. It meant she wasn't falling apart. Jessica Riley doesn't cry. Not in front of someone else. Ever. Even in pain.

"No, no it's not. Shit. Jess. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Josh fell silent for a second. "No. Stupid question. Sorry." The shadow of his head tipped to the side as a thought occurred to him. "How did you end up down here? I don't think you told me. Did you tell me? I've been… out of it."

That was the understatement of the fucking year, but Jess didn't comment on it. She took a few more breaths and moved slowly, trying to get into a position that would ease the pain. Was this what broken ribs felt like? They'd been so consistently painful that, with everything else happening, she'd almost lost track until he'd elbowed her. Focusing on his question, she tried once again to sort through her memories. "I'm not positive. I remember Mike and I went up to the guest-house-cabin-thing. I thought… I thought the others were pranking us. Trying to keep us from hooking up, you know? But then I think—I know—something grabbed me. Yanked me outside and…" Her voice faltered.

"And?" Josh prompted quietly.

"I'm not sure. It all happened really fast. Like, one second I was shouting something on the porch and the next I was in this big wood building and everything smelled like rust. Then Mike was there and he was trying to help me, but… I'm not sure. I remember this really loud, high-pitched noise. And falling. I blacked out, I think. Ugh. I don't know." She rested her head on the wall and closed her eyes. It made almost no difference.

After a few minutes of silence, she opened her eyes again and glanced at Josh. "Your turn."

He was lost in thought. It seemed to take a moment for him to even realize she'd spoken. "Hm?"

"Your turn, Josh. How the hell did you end up down here? And—" Jess cut herself off. One question at a time. If he would even answer one fucking question, it would make her feel better.

He didn't answer—big shocker there, she thought irritably—and her mind started to wander. It was easy down here. She could hear water sloshing distantly. They should drink something soon. She'd been a girl scout for, like, five minutes when she was little and she remembered some of the random wilderness survival tips they would give. For example, she knew that a person could survive without food a lot longer than they could survive without water. Had Josh been drinking? God, it was impossible to tell time down here. There had to be a way out, though, right?

She remembered that bit of tunnel she had fallen into before. It seemed ages ago that Mike had tossed her the flashlight, then jumped down to help her. She hoped he was okay. No, she told herself sharply, she knew he was okay. Mike was fast and strong and capable. He'd be okay. They'd all be okay. They probably called in a rescue team who was looking for them even now.

Something Josh had said before surfaced in her mind: _Mike said you were dead_. Well, fuck. If Mike thought she was dead, there wouldn't be a rescue team.

Next to her, Josh rolled his shoulder and it made a horrible popping sound. She sighed and shook her head. She was being ridiculous. There were two of them. Even if they didn't come looking for her, they'd look for Josh. They just had to stay alive until they were found.

Right?

"Prank."

Josh's voice was hoarse and unexpected, making her jump slightly. "What?"

"You asked why I was wearing this. It was for a prank."

"A… prank? Then how did you end up down in the—"

He shrugged. "I didn't say it was a good prank. Or a good idea." Straightening, his voice picked up some of its old casual confidence. "It _was_ a good idea, though. A fucking great idea. All my ideas are."

She resisted the urge to comment on that particular bit of egotism. "What was it?"

"You remember _Saw_?"

As if she could forget that stupid movie. Jess suppressed a shudder. She didn't like horror. She _really_ didn't like gore. She spent most of the movie on her phone, googling it to find out when she should close her eyes and exactly how long she had to suffer through it. They should have listened to her and just watched _Sixteen Candles_. Sure, it was dumb, but at least it didn't involve people cutting into each other's stomachs and shit. "Yes. I definitely remember _Saw_."

"Like that."

"Uh… more explanation please. Like right fucking now. What do you mean 'like _Saw_?' What exactly is 'like _Saw_?'"

Josh shrugged again. "Oh you know. Flawed but ultimately redeemable people endure trials at the hands of a madman and come out stronger in the end."

"I'm sorry, are you telling me you made our friends _cut each other open_?"

He grinned. "Nah. Nothing that dramatic. I did get cut in half though."

"What… the… fuck...?"

Sitting up straighter, he crossed his legs and rubbed his hands together, warming to the topic. "Okay, no. Listen. It's great. So… I set up cameras everywhere and then faked these scenarios where they had to make these tough, nearly impossible choices. It's great. And then I can put all the footage online somewhere. Chris is going to be the hero. And Sam too. Then Ash can be his damsel in distress. It's great. It's got everything. Horror, romance, action, adventure, high stakes. The perfect Halloween release."

She stared at him, her mind seeming to slog slowly through his sudden rush of excitement. "…what choices?"

"Oh, you know. Stuff like Chris having to choose between Ash and me. Etcetera." Jess could hear his smile in his voice. She'd heard this tone from Josh before: pleased and slightly smug, the supreme ruler of his own little kingdom. Josh hadn't been popular, exactly, but he'd always belonged with the popular kids, just as he belonged everywhere he went. A social chameleon.

"Uh… wow."

"I know. My genius surprises even me at times." He folded his hands behind his head. "Plus, you know, it's fitting. After last year."

If it was possible for her to get colder, she did, her heart pounding hard in her chest. They hadn't talked about it. They never talked about it. They all just skirted around the shadows of the dead—or missing—girls like they were puddles on the sidewalk. She cleared her throat. "After the girls."

He shot her a glance, then looked back out towards the opposite wall. "Yes."

It clicked in her head. After so long struggling to put pieces of memory together, it felt good to get something for once. "Like how we filmed Hannah."

"Yes."

Now tears stung at her eyes and she blinked them away. She hadn't wanted Hannah to die. Fuck, she'd even _liked_ the girl. But drunk and giddy on her friends' encouragement, she'd thought it would be hilarious: a way to get back at Hannah for flirting so heavily with Mike and thinking Em didn't notice. Jess had just thought it would be fun. She'd expected laughter and Hannah blushing and some light teasing. But instead there was snow and cold and Beth yelling and panic. Then there were search parties and black arm bands and Facebook posts and crying emojis.

It made sense that Josh would want to punish them for it, in his own weird film school way.

"But why Sam?" Jess asked quietly. "She wanted to stop us. And Chris wasn't even conscious."

"Doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," she insisted. He was finally talking to her. She wasn't going to let him clam up again now. As much as it hurt to talk about the girls, talking at all helped her feel less alone. "Tell me."

"Chris was an idiot for getting that drunk," he said simply. "Sam should have stopped it. She obviously didn't really try."

She hugged her legs a little tighter to her chest. "She—okay. Fine. That's bullshit, but fine. So what did you have planned for me? What nasty gory prank did you set up for me?" She almost wished she hadn't asked. She didn't really want to know, didn't want to imagine it or dream about it.

Josh shrugged again. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I mean, I put a few random little pop up things along the trail to the cabin. Just stuff to make you jump a bit. You're cute when you do that little squealy yelp thing. But yeah, nothing big."

Her brow furrowed. That didn't make any sense. Unless… "Oh, 'cause your friends get to be the heroes of your little film, right? Chris and his damsel. Sam and her… whatever. Veganism."

"I guess. But also…" He waved a hand vaguely. "I mean, it isn't really your fault, what happened before. Seemed kind of a waste to put together some big elaborate prank for you." His voice dropped and he sounded annoyed. "Emily never got to do hers though. That sucks. It was one of my favorites. I took this wheel—"

"Excuse me?" Jess cut him off. "It 'isn't really my fault?'"

"Nah. I mean, I know it wasn't really your idea."

"It was entirely my idea!" Her voice was louder than she intended and the ricocheted echo of it made her head hurt. Why was she even fighting this? It felt a bit insane to be demanding the blame for something, but if he was going to be angry at anyone, he should be angry at her. She had spent too much time angry at herself to be given some bizarre get-out-of-jail-free card. "I wrote the fake note, for fuck's sake."

Josh laughed. He _laughed_ and it made her want to punch him. She might have tried, if her ribs weren't still such a mess of aching agony. "Oh come on. I know you're just one of Emily's little lackeys. You might have written the note, but it was obviously her doing."

This was stupid. She knew that. She knew it was stupid to be getting offended over being told she was innocent, but she was so fucking sick of everyone treating her like Emily's god damned shadow. Like she didn't have an original thought in her head. Like that's the only reason she was dating Mike—just because Emily had done it first. "Josh," she said slowly, over-enunciating her words. "It was my fucking idea. It was a terrible, cruel, horrible thing to do, but it was my idea. It's my fault. If you're going to hate someone, it shouldn't be Chris. Or Sam. It should be me."

"Yeah. Sure."

Anger flared hot in her chest, just as the pain had moments before. "Fuck you, Josh. You should fucking hate me."

"I mean… you're kind of a follower, Jess. Sorry. You just kind of go along with whatever happens, so I figured it was more Em than you. I didn't realize you'd be so pissed I didn't design a dungeon for you." He tipped his head to the side, considering. "Actually, I get it. They are really cool setups. I'd be jealous if I didn't get one."

"Fuck you."

"You keep saying that. And yet you don't."

She stood, moving faster than she knew she should. It hurt, but what didn't hurt these days? Or nights. Whatever. "I'm going to the water," she snapped, feeling her way along the wall in the darkness. She could hear it, this way. That was enough. Maybe Hannah would eat her. Then she wouldn't have to talk to Josh anymore. The concept was rather appealing at the moment.

-o-

The water lapped at the toes of her boots. The fact that it was moving at all seemed weird, since they were underground. It wasn't like it was a river and it certainly shouldn't have a tide, yet it shifted slowly all the same. She could see light reflecting off it from somewhere. Soon, she knew, she'd have to figure out a way to get out or resign herself to starvation and death. Truthfully, she was starting to grow numb to the idea of dying. It couldn't be worse than being trapped here in an unending loop of waiting and fighting and sleeping—rinse and repeat.

Speaking of which, she really, _really_ wanted to wash her hair.

The memory of being clean and warm and full seemed very far away. It was odd, the things you could get used to. She could almost get used to constant pain, to not feeling her fingers and toes, to being starving. It didn't make them any more bearable or pleasant, but it made them familiar. Like that annoying, asshole cousin that she just couldn't avoid at family gatherings.

She leaned forward again, cupping her hands in the water and bringing it up to her mouth to drink. It was brackish and unpleasant and she was very aware that not only had she washed in it, but likely other animals had used it for all sorts of purposes. But, like pain and hunger and cold, poor water purity was just another thing she had to deal with. There was no alternative.

The sound of soft footsteps made her jump and then wince at the accompanying pain. She hadn't died from her injuries yet. That was promising. "What do you want, Josh?" she said, not looking up.

"I'm thirsty too. You don't have a monopoly on being a human being with biological needs."

The annoyance in his tone made her shoot him a dirty look. He looked cross and almost childishly grumpy. They glared at each other for a moment, then she sighed and gestured to the ground beside her. "I don't want to keep fighting."

"We probably will, though."

Jess snorted. "Yeah. Probably." She must be going crazy down here to find that idea comforting.

He drank from the pool, then sprawled back onto his palms. "Have you thought again about eating—"

"Shut up."

"Yeah, yeah." Josh frowned out at the water. After a long moment, he spoke. His voice seemed overly casual. Jess had heard the same tone from Emily, when she was pretending that nothing could touch her. "I'm glad you're here, Jessica."

She didn't bother to hide her disbelief. "You are?"

Josh flopped down onto his back and held his hands up over his head, waving them lazily through the air. "Whatever. Forget I said anythi—"

The water splashed.

Neither of them were touching it.

"Probably…" She swallowed hard and found herself whispering. "Probably a fish or something, right? Underground… fish…?" It was getting hard to breathe and the light on the water shifted rapidly. There was something making it move. Something that wasn't either of them.

Cold fingers grabbed hers, clenching so tight they hurt. She wanted to look at him; she wanted to scramble to her feet and run. And yet, she knew that could be the worst possible thing for her to do. Out across the water, in the darkness, she thought she heard something hiss.

She wasn't sure if she was happy that she couldn't see into the dark or not.

"What do we do?" she breathed, trying not to move her lips. "Josh, what do we do?"

His hand twitched almost imperceptibly. "We wait," he said slowly. "Wait and see."

After sitting in tense silence for what could have been only a minute but felt like at least an hour, Jess realized she was trembling with the effort of staying so still. This wasn't sustainable. Her muscles, still weak, were developing a deep-seated ache to accompany the myriad of other hurts. "What if it is just a rat or something? How will we know?"

"We need light."

Jess nodded automatically, then froze again, her heart thudding in her chest. Shit. But nothing leaped out of the dark at her. _Maybe it's just coming slowly around the side instead of wading through the water_ , whispered an insidious little voice in her head. She tried to think back, to remember if the thing had been silent before.

Her hand was abruptly released and Josh shoved himself to his feet. "Welp. We can't just sit here forever."

She stared up at him. "Seriously?"

"What? We can't."

"Well, yeah, but—" He turned and vanished into the darkness. "Wait!" Scrambling to her feet as quickly as she could, she followed him, senses primed to react to even the slightest sound.

Bright, blinding light burst across the cavern and Jess shrieked, flinging her hands up to shield her eyes. Beside her, she heard Josh swear loudly. She'd never imagined that light could be physically painful, but the glare of it shot through her head like a spear and even with her eyes closed behind her hands, she could still see it. There was a thump beside her and the sound of someone falling, then Josh swearing even louder. She froze in place, mind and heart racing, trying not to panic.

"I see someone!" she heard an unfamiliar voice call. "Two of them!"

Jess stood, swaying in place, trying to think, to process.

Rescue.

They were being rescued.


	4. Broken and Lonely

**Chapter Four:**

 **Broken and Lonely**

Jess wanted to be able to say that she hated hospitals, but in all honesty, she had spent almost no time in one. It was hard to say she hated anything with which she had so little experience. Well, it wasn't hard to _say_ , but it wasn't true.

Her thoughts circled annoyingly. It was hard to focus or to keep on any particular topic.

She blinked up at the yellowing tile ceiling, listening to the monitors next to her beep periodically. It was warm. Blankets were heaped over her and felt soft against the bare skin of her legs. Warmth was a weird thing, she reflected dreamily. It was such a strange and elusive concept. What did it mean to be warm, exactly? Not hot, which was as tangible as cold, but warm. Perfectly comfortable. Safe.

Safe.

That was also a weird thing.

This time it was easier to put the chain of past events together in her head. She remembered being tense and terrified with Josh, braced for an attack from a nightmare, then bright lights. Suddenly it had been intensely loud, both from the layering of voices—their rescuers and Josh, who was trying to explain something she couldn't quite follow—and then machinery. Her eyes wouldn't adjust fast enough for her to track exactly what had happened.

They were outside, then they were in a helicopter. A blanket was thrown across their laps, and another around their shoulder. She was closer to Josh than she had been their entire time in the mine and, overwhelmed, she let herself lean her head against his shoulder. He had been tense beside her, every muscle of his body locked up. What was he expecting to go back to?

Jess sighed, relishing the lack of pain, and let her mind run back over what he'd said in the mine, the details of his 'prank' and the way he'd talked to the empty air. She wondered where he was now. Probably in another room, being fussed over just as she was.

It seemed so strange to be here, in this otherwise empty hospital room, alone. In a bizarre way, she felt more alone here than she had in the mine. None of the doctors or nurses would tell her much, aside from reassuring her that she was safe and that she would be fine. They'd given her something—morphine, maybe—and it was nice, but unsettling. It was like the warmth. She'd been cold and in pain for so long that to have both things removed made her feel… numb. And not entirely in a good way.

"Your friends are on their way," the nurse had told Jess on her last visit, smiling kindly. "They were really worried about you."

All she could do was nod, her heart racing. Mike had tried to save her. She supposed, in a way, he had. What did the princess say to the prince after she was rescued? 'Thank you' seemed rather inadequate, and yet she couldn't think of anything else that was even marginally appropriate.

She forced herself to eat two bites of broth before they arrived. The group, headed by Emily of all people, hovered awkwardly in the doorway. Em lifted a hand and flashed her a strained smile. "Hi Jess."

"Are you… are you going to come in?" She asked, frowning.

Sam pushed past Mike and rushed to her side. "Oh Jess, we're so glad you're okay! Mike said… we all thought…"

"We thought you were dead," Mike said, following Sam in. He looked—they all looked—worn and exhausted, although clean. She noted the bandages on his face, the heavy wrapping on his hand. All of them were banged up. Ashley, hovering near the back of the group, had a fading black eye. Emily had a set of stitches on her forehead that looked more like a big black spider than anything else. The only one she didn't see was Chris.

Jess smiled at Mike. The room was so warm. It was like even her face was wrapped in a blanket. She wanted to eat more broth, but that seemed rude with others in the room. "I almost was," she said quietly. "Um… thanks."

He shrugged uncomfortably. "I should have gotten to you faster."

Sam glanced from Jess to Mike and back again. This felt too exposed to Jess. Too personal to talk about in front of everyone. She shook her head slowly. "I—we'll talk later."

"Because there will be a later," Sam said with a reassuring smile, squeezing Jess's hand. "This means all of us lived. That's huge."

"Chris?"

"He—ah—went to see Josh." Her tone was overly casual and almost forced, her smile too bright. "We'll grab him on the way out. Did you want to see him?"

She'd never been close with Chris. For some reason, all she could think of was the way he'd held her letter for Mike over her head with that irritating little mocking smile. She was certainly glad he wasn't dead, but she didn't particularly want to see him either. Jess shook her head again. "How is Josh?"

Sam's face closed, her smile vanishing entirely. "Fine. Stable."

"Is he—"

"We should let you rest," Sam said quickly, standing and pushing back from the bed.

Mike crossed over and bent down to press his lips to Jess's forehead. He was clean-shaven but his lips were heavily chapped and chaffed against her skin. She looked up at him, trying to read his expression, but couldn't. The morphine, she told herself. It was just the morphine, making them all seem like strangers. Once she was out of the hospital, it would go back to normal.

-o-

Light filtered into the room from the hallway, which helped keep her fear at bay. Even with the soft beeping of the equipment and the warmth, it was all too easy to see shapes lurking in the shadows of the darkened room. When she dozed off she dreamed of something with too many teeth, something that called her name in her own voice and made her beg for forgiveness. She wondered if the nurse would give her more drugs if Jess paged her. A sleep with no dreams would be a welcome blessing.

At one point, she'd dreamt that the grey, industrial curtains had reached for her, growing claws and snarling. She'd woken to fresh, sharp pain and found she'd bitten through her lip to keep her sleeping self from screaming. That was good, at least. If she had to see the nurse's pitying smile one more time, she'd… well, she couldn't really do much, but she'd do something.

She dozed, then woke, then dozed again.

Then there was motion in her room. Someone was there. Her eyes sprang open and she jolted up, the painkillers not quite high enough to negate the soreness of her body or the severity of her injuries.

Josh smiled ruefully from the chair beside her bed. "Sorry. I thought you were awake."

"What are you doing here? How did you get in here?" She rubbed at her eyes, trying to wake up more completely.

"Walked. It wasn't exactly difficult."

She shot him a dirty look. " _Why_ are you here?"

His lazy shrug was no answer, but before she could ask him again, he spoke. "I'm bored."

"And you think I'll be more interesting? Do you know how many drugs they have me on?"

"Probably stuff more fun than what they're giving me." In the cast off light from the hallway, she could see that Josh also looked clean, if tired. The bruises on his face were fading slowly and seeing him out of the overalls was strange after so long in the mine. It had almost started to seem normal. She tried to shift in the bed, to sit up more, but her body felt strange and heavy. Though no one had told her directly, she'd overheard the doctors talking about her injuries. A serious concussion, a fractured shin, broken ribs, crushed soft tissues in her foot—not to mention the hypothermia, dehydration, malnutrition, etc. She really wished she'd been a scout for longer. Maybe some of that would have been avoidable.

Josh leaned forward and helped her scoot up in the bed, then she hit the button to raise the back. It whirred softly as it moved.

"I don't know about that," she mumbled, rubbing her hand against her eyes. She just wanted to go home. She wanted to be in her own bed, to be able to eat something more than broth and orange gelatin, to smell something other than that stale, sterile hospital scent. "Doesn't feel fun. Feels weird. To not feel anymore, you know?"

"Yeah," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. "I know exactly what you mean."

They sat in silence for a long moment. The monitor beeped softly. "How's Chris doing?" Jess asked.

The dark-haired man straightened in his chair and looked stonily at the window on the far wall. "Fine."

"I'm glad everyone's okay." Her jaw itched and she scratched at it idly, noticing for the first time that, though her hands were clean, her nails were torn and ragged and there was still some dirt deep under them. She couldn't remember the last time her nails had looked so bad. "They looked kind of beat up, though. Sam's still Sam, of course. That girl is fucking ridiculous. Like the energizer bunny. Just keeps going and go—" She glanced up and broke off.

Josh was staring at her. "Sam… Sam was here." His face was frighteningly empty.

"I thought you knew. I figured that she would have—"

"She didn't." He looked down at his hands, his back stiff and straight. "I didn't realize that… that she didn't. Doesn't matter." Josh forced a smile that Jess didn't buy for a single second.

But there was another question nagging at her that she just couldn't bite back. "Did—do you know if they killed it? I mean… uh…"

"Her. Did they kill _her_. That's what you're trying to say."

She had to know. Maybe if she knew, her nightmares would ease. Or redouble, she supposed, if the answer wasn't a good one. Jess winced, knowing how the question sounded. "Yeah. Is—Is Hannah dead?"

Josh sighed, his shoulders slumping as he seemed to fold in on himself. He buried his face in his hands and she could see how his knuckles were white, his nails digging in to his skin. She wanted to pull his hands away from his face, but even scratching her own itchy skin had felt nearly impossible with her muscles so weak. So instead she just waited.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Yeah, she is. Apparently, they all were killed. All the fucking monsters. While we were sitting around, twiddling our thumbs."

Jess couldn't tell if he was relieved or destroyed.

Honestly, she wasn't sure if he could even tell.

-o-

"I don't know, Jess. I thought you were dead. I thought he killed you."

"Why the fuck would you think that Josh would kill me?" She frowned at him. "I know he did this dumb prank thing, but you can't tell me you actually thought _Josh_ , who we've been friends with forever—okay, not friends exactly, but still—would literally murder me."

Mike rubbed his forehead and she tried not to fixate on his bandaged hand. It wasn't hard to figure out that he'd lost fingers. There were obviously missing pieces. Had Josh been responsible for that? Surely not. She couldn't imagine that Mike wouldn't have told her about that as evidence immediately. After a long, exhausted exhale, he looked at her earnestly. "Jess, it wasn't just… it wasn't just some prank. I don't think you get what he did."

"He told me about it."

"And what did he tell you, exactly?"

She cast back in her memory, trying to remember exactly how Josh had described it. "He said it was like _Saw_. Like, horrible choices, or whatever."

"Yeah." Mike sighed again and sagged in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees, head hanging down. His voice came a little muffled. "But it isn't an 'or whatever' kind of thing. Jess, this was seriously fucked up. He rigged up his own corpse, complete with entrails, and forced Chris to murder him. He videotaped Sam while she was in the bath and then chased her through the lodge basement. He drugged her and tied her up. He put a fucking _gun_ in Chris's hand and forced him to choose to shoot himself over Ashley. This isn't—It was real. To them, it was real.

"I don't want to tell you about this stuff. Fuck, I don't want to even think about this stuff. But you should have seen it. He… it was a whole new level of vicious. I don't even get it. I don't get what he thought he was going to accomplish. Seriously. He had, like, dummies rigged up as scarecrows and all these things set up to look like some psycho had skinned Beth and Hannah and done horrible shit to them."

A tide of nausea rose in her stomach as she listened to Mike speak, threatening to rid her of the little she'd been able to keep down. Jello and broth and milk and a cup of frozen apple juice slush. That's all they'd give her. No hard foods. Not yet. For the first time, she was grateful. It was too easy to remember the pleasure in Josh's voice when he'd described his plan, the way he'd rubbed his hands together gleefully.

"Okay," she said finally. "I get it."

"I'm sorry." His voice was layered with regret and guilt. "I'm sorry, Jess." She could hear it in his apology. Not just sorrow for telling her such gruesome details about Josh's shit, but for everything else, for the cabin and the chase and the elevator.

Leaning over, she rested her palm on his knee. He stared at it for a moment, then slowly took it in his uninjured hand. "You saved me, Mike. You did. I know it." She let her head fall back against the pillows and tried to smile at him. "Can we just… can we just be the way we were again? I miss you. I miss… knowing."

He swallows hard and stood, setting her hand back on the bed. His lips against her head were just as chapped and hesitant as the time before. "I want that. I just—I'm not sure if we can be."

"What does that mean?"

But he just turned and headed for the door. "I'll come visit you again soon, okay? I promise."

"Mike? What does that mean?" Jess shoved herself up, ignoring the stiffness of her body, the ache of remembered pain. "Mike?"

He was gone.

-o-

"The security in this hospital _sucks_ ," she whispered as she heard the door crack open and then shut.

"Or maybe I'm just a mother-fucking ninja." Josh collapsed heavily into the chair by the bed.

Jess smiled sleepily at him. "If you keep sneaking into my room like this, Josh, you're going to give a lady ideas."

He snorted. "Yeah? And what ideas might those be?"

Her voice was at its most coy and suggestive. "Oh… you know…" She couldn't keep up the act. She dropped the voice and huffed out a little laugh. "…that you're incredibly bored." From the back of her mind, she heard Mike's voice again. _It was a whole new level of vicious._ It killed any amusement.

The two of them sat silently. She wanted to ask about the prank, to nose about as she always did and get the truth. She wasn't intellectually curious, not like Ash; Jess had learned that knowledge was power. Not that she was going to play some game with Josh, but she didn't really know how to handle him. She never had, really. Joshua Washington had always been an annoying, aloof enigma. A cute one, in a dark-and-brooding kind of way, but still. Irritating as fuck.

And now, apparently, dangerous.

She wished it was harder for her to imagine him doing the things Mike had described, but she remembered his voice, ranting to phantoms in the darkness. There were other things too. Other things that now seemed to make more sense. Long absences from school while his sisters went to class dead-eyed or with tear-stained cheeks. Pills she'd seen him swallow hurriedly behind the gym, looking around to see if anyone had noticed.

Jess hated not knowing what to say or how to ask. She was a direct person. She liked to think of that as a good thing, but sometimes it meant that it was hard to find out what you wanted to know.

"Mike told me more about your prank," she said quietly.

"Yeah?" He sounded tired and bored, though that might have been an act or something. At the very least, he didn't sound as proud as he had in the tunnels. "And?"

Fiddling idly with the bed controls, she tried to keep her voice casual. "It was a bit more elaborate than you made it seem."

"I thought of everything. That's the hallmark of a Washington. We know how to set up a scene." Josh held up his wrist, letting the faint light catch his wristband. "They're letting me out tomorrow, you know."

"What, like, you get to go?"

"Releasing me back into the wild. Tagging me and tracking my mating patterns and everything else." He snorted again and his hand dropped back into his lap with a thump. "Yeah. I get to go. Back into the waiting arms of my paternalia and their army of eager doctors."

She had no idea what to say to that. "They're your parents. Aren't you glad to be going back to them?"

His laugh was hoarse, ripping its way from his chest like a splintering rock. "Sure. Yeah. I'm delighted. Can't you tell?"

God, she was tired. She was so tired of trying to talk her way around Josh's weird, somewhat nonsensical words. "Hey Josh, can you do me a favor?"

The laugh broke off sharply. "What?"

"Can you just fucking talk to me?"

Josh's voice, when he spoke, was quiet and almost confused. "What?"

"Like, just talk to me, okay? If you don't want to tell me the truth about something, just say that. Say 'Jess, I don't want to answer that.' But I just can't take any more…" Her voice was trembling and she bit down hard on her lip to try to stop it. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and counted to three, then tried again. "Are you going to be okay?"

There it was—the question she really wanted to ask—and it surprised her.

The clouds outside the window broke and moonlight filtered in, casting a long, pale rectangle across the blankets and onto Josh's face. He closed his eyes at the sudden light and for a brief moment, she thought she saw him smile softly. Then his eyes sprang open again and he frowned at the moon as if it had personally disappointed him. He shrugged and grinned cheekily. The expression didn't reach the rest of his face. "Oh, well, of course I—"

"Josh, seriously. _Please._ "

The wide, toothy grin faded and he shrugged again, shaking his head slightly. "Jess, I don't want to answer that."

She swallowed hard and nodded. He'd done what she'd asked. She couldn't expect any more. "Okay."


	5. Stasis

**Chapter Five:**

 **Stasis**

Her room was starting to feel like a prison. Not that she was really trapped there, but she was being confined. To be fair, 'bedrest' was the actual term used by the doctors and her parents, but that was obviously just code for 'imprisonment.' Jess lay back on her neatly-made bed, staring up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars and planets she'd stuck up there when she was nine were mostly gone. Her Dad had helped her set them up in the shapes of actual constellations, but with so many stars missing, they were now just amorphous patterns.

She rolled over and buried her face in a throw pillow to stifle her yell of frustration. They just kept acting like she was totally damaged or something. Sure, it still hurt when she laughed and she had to take pain killers and she still had a brace on her leg, but she wasn't fucking broken. She wasn't some doll.

It felt selfish, how much she was growing to hate her room. There had been a time that she had wanted nothing more than to sit in her bedroom in the sunlight that came in through the window and listen to music.

As it turned out, that got old really fucking fast.

She didn't _want_ to be a homebody, really. That wasn't her jam. Jess was an adventure-haver, a risk-taker. She didn't want to just look out at the brown and carefully watered green of Southern California in the Spring. She wanted to be out there, doing shit, getting into trouble.

And yet, it seemed like not only was she not supposed to go outside, but she didn't seem to be able to get into trouble for anything either. Her parents wouldn't get angry about anything. They weren't frustrated or embarrassed about her being found in her underwear, despite what that obviously meant. They weren't even upset that she'd lost another phone. They'd just bought her a new one, along with a glittery case that she didn't really like. She used it, since it obviously meant so much to them, but it just felt like too much.

She'd hoped that things would ease as she healed. Everyone had survived, after all, even if the cops didn't really believe them about the monsters.

In her first week home, Mike came to visit four times, Matt twice, and Emily once. Em's visit had been especially awkward, since she'd done nothing but sit in strained silence, trying to think of what they could possibly say to each other. It had never used to be this hard, back before… before things had gone so sour between them. She wasn't sure how to fix it. She wasn't sure she could fix it. At least they were both alive. Jess had actually said that to Emily, before she left.

"At least we're both alive."

Emily had given her a quick, genuine smile, and vanished out the door. It was enough for the moment.

The weirdest part of the week, though, was when Sam visited. Jess had assumed she'd misheard her mom when she'd shouted the stairs that Sam was there. She couldn't figure out why Sam was even there. They weren't friends and never really had been, but Sam seemed determined to act as if they were. Something was off about the girl, too, something Jess couldn't quite put her finger on. It was in the way the girl smiled, the way it never quite reached her eyes.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it was better than death by boredom. Jess shrugged to herself and took the plunge. "Are you sure it was Hannah?"

Sam's already pale face went stark white. After a moment, she nodded. "Yeah. I found her journal."

"What was she? What happened?" The other girl just stared at her and Jess tried to explain. "No one will tell me what happened. Josh didn't know. I mean, he knew there were _monsters_ , obviously, like I did after it—she—tried to kill me in the mine, but what happened to her?"

And so, Sam told her a tale that she wouldn't have believed if she hadn't seen it herself. When Sam, looking nauseated, mentioned Hannah's desperation and what she did to Beth… Jess thought of Josh's suggestion in the long, dark hours in the mine, and shuddered. Would that have happened to them to? Would she even now be growing fangs and losing her hair?

"Fuck. I'm sorry, Sam." The girl shrugged, not quite meeting Jess's eyes. "Thanks for telling me. For what it's worth… I really am sorry."

"No, _I'm_ sorry," Sam said fiercely. "Mike was so sure you were dead—we might have found you so much sooner if we'd thought you were still down there somewhere. Matt was in the mine too, apparently. Found an exit right around dawn. But we told the rescue crew… we told them they'd be finding your body. If we'd just said something else, maybe they would have—"

Jess cut her off, trying to reassure her. "No, really. It's okay. We held it together. Obviously." She laughed. "Otherwise we wouldn't be here alive."

"Yeah." Something changed in Sam's face, something closing off and shutting down.

She just couldn't help herself. "How is Josh, by the way?"

"I wouldn't know."

Flinching at Sam's tone, Jess fiddled with the end of her braid, choosing her words carefully. "I haven't seen him since they flew me back down here. Is he back at home?"

Sam stood abruptly, pacing to the window and back. "I don't know. Okay? I don't know, Jess. Yeah, he's here. They have a bunch of doctors for him and they won't let him on the phone or the internet. What they should do is _lock him up_ , but I guess this is the next best thing."

Ouch. "Sorry I asked. Jeez."

"I should go. Talk to you later."

She didn't even get a chance to say goodbye before Sam was gone. So much for that.

-o-

Something was dripping faintly, the sound echoing out of the dark to her. The stone floor was gritty and cold under her bare feet. She hugged her stomach, desperate for any warmth, but it did nothing to help. A long, slow scraping sound came from the darkness behind her. She had to run, had to get out of there, but her legs weren't working. She couldn't move. She couldn't hide. She was going to—

Jess jolted awake in a cold sweat, sitting bolt upright. It was still dark, but it was warm. She was under Nana's old floral quilt and orange light from the street filtered through her blinds to fall in stripes across her covered legs. Far from a ragged bra and panties, she was wearing soft cotton shorts and a baggy nightshirt.

She was clean. She was safe. She was getting really fucking sick of nightmares.

It felt like she dreamed about the mine at least once, every night. Sometimes it snuck up on her, too. This time, she'd been dreaming of wandering around the back side of the gym at the high school, looking for the spot where she and Em had written their initials in permanent marker. But then she'd found a door that wasn't supposed to be there. A wooden door, whose handle was so cold it almost stuck to her fingers as she opened it.

Then she'd been in the dark again, suddenly stripped down and scraped up, her head swimming.

It just wasn't fair. It really wasn't. And the worst part was how hard it was to shake the fear afterwards. Jess fell back onto her pillows and closed her eyes. If she could just close her eyes for a minute, she'd fall back asleep and dream of nothing but puppies and whipped cream and that thing Mike used to do with his—behind her closed eyelids, a grey, monstrous beast lunged at her and she sat up again.

"Oh, fuck you Hannah," she muttered to her room. "Okay, so I'm not _sure_ it was you, but it was _probably_ you and you're the only one who's name I know, so, y'know, fuck you."

She grabbed her new phone from the nightstand and scrolled instinctively to Em. Her thumb hesitated over the name, but she scrolled past. Em didn't want to hear from her at all, much less freaked out from a nightmare at 2:32 a.m. Mike? Jess thought back to the last time she'd spoken to him.

He'd sat on the bed next to her. Her mom was apparently so relieved to have Jess home alive that she didn't even insist on keeping the door open. "How's your hand?" Jess had asked finally.

Mike had laughed and run his left fingers over the missing ones on his right hand. "Hurts a bit. The doctor was able to make it look a lot nicer than me and my machete."

"I still can't believe you did that. That's pretty ballsy."

"I am nothing if not having-of-balls."

She latched onto the joking comment and grinned at him. That was better. That was more like the Mike she remembered. Nudging in next to him, she slid her arm around his waist. "Oh really, tough guy? Maybe I don't believe you. Maybe you should prove it to me." God, if it was possible for someone to layer more flirtation into their voice, she really didn't see how. She was laying it on _thick_. And this was coming from the girl who'd once worn nothing but feathers for her Halloween costume.

Except that whatever had led him to make the joke didn't translate into interest. He'd kissed her gently on the cheek and carefully extricated himself from her arms, before putting a few inches between them on the bed. All his questions had centered on her well-being: how was her foot, was she still getting dizzy, was she eating. It made her want to fucking scream. She already had two parents, three doctors, and a shrink trying to care for every aspect of her life. Jess didn't need another caretaker. She wanted her goddamned boyfriend to treat her like the smoking hot, fun-filled, adventurous goddess that she obviously was.

…okay, some of that thought was more affirmation than anything else, but whatever.

Mike wouldn't be any help now. As much as she wanted to hear his voice, she couldn't bear to give him even one more reason to think she was fragile.

Shoving herself out of bed, she slumped over to the window and peeked out. The street was quiet. It would be so easy to slip out the window and shimmy down the tree. Maybe not as easy as it would have been before she got injured, but still.

She snorted humorlessly. "Where would I even go?"

Instead, she collapsed into her desk chair and opened her laptop. The light of the screen was blinding and she rushed to turn it down. Flicking through her go-to sites, she caught sight of a list of people who were online.

She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. He probably didn't want to hear from her, but god, she was _itching_ to talk to someone. Even if that someone was a dick with serious mental health issues. Maybe even _especially_ if that someone was a dick with serious mental health issues. When she'd asked her parents about him, they'd been evasive—assuring her he was fine and being cared for, whatever that meant. Mike had only told her that Josh wasn't really going to be around much for a while. And from the little Sam had said, she knew he wasn't supposed to have internet access. And yet his name was still in the list, complete with its little green availability dot.

"Fuck it," Jess muttered, flipping her braid back over her shoulder and typing quickly. That was a skill people always seemed to be surprised she had, but they'd all gone to the same junior high, right? They'd taken the same boring fucking keyboarding class. She even still had the order of the keys memorized and could rattle them off, which was an entirely pointless thing occupying what was probably valuable headspace. "Q-W-E-R-T-Y-U-I-" she mumbled. "Stupid."

She kept it simple.

* * *

 _Hi Josh. How are you?_

 ** _Why does it say you're online? You should be asleep or whatever it is normal people do at 3 a.m._**

 _Because I am online. How else would I be messaging you?_

 ** _No shit._**

 _Hey. Ask a super dumb question, get a super dumb answer._

 _How are YOU online? I thought they took your computer away._

* * *

There was a long pause as he typed, then deleted, then typed again. The little ellipses flashed on the screen and vanished until she thought she was going a little bit mad. She probably shouldn't have asked. In his position, this would be the last thing she'd want to be reminded about.

* * *

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _[…]_**

 _You don't have to tell me. I was just curious._

 ** _No._**

 ** _It's fine._**

 ** _I took Beth's laptop._**

 _BETH'S laptop? How?_

 ** _The parentals kept everything. Room's like a shrine. It wasn't too hard to sneak in and snag it._**

 ** _Password was "Mithridates"_**

 ** _Go figure._**

 _Um… Is that supposed to mean something to me? Because I have no idea what that is._

 ** _[…]_**

 _ **Old king from way back when.** _

**_It's also from this poem she really liked. I guess it just made sense to me that she'd pick it._**

 _Wow. What poem?_

 ** _One sec._**

 ** _It's called Terrence this is stupid stuff_**

 ** _*terence_**

 _Seriously?_

 _ **Yeah.** _

_You're just trying to see if I'm gullible enough to google it._

 _Not gonna happen._

 ** _Right. bEcause that's the ultimate prank. Making you google something._**

* * *

Jess snorted. She actually was tempted to see if it was really a poem. Later, maybe. For the moment, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction, even if he would never know.

* * *

 _Dude, don't ask me to explain how your brain works_

 _How the hell did you guess that though? Really?_

 ** _A magician never reveals his secrets._**

 _Whatever._

 ** _I can't believe you write in full sentences. It hought it'd be all emojis and bad slang shorthand with you._**

* * *

She stuck her tongue out at the screen. "Dick."

* * *

 _This from the guy with a bunch of typos?_

 _ZOMGZ r u srs rn? ;-* XD XP_

 _Is that better?_

 ** _Much. Thank you._**

 _Bite me._

 ** _You know, you're the one who IMed me._**

 _Yeah._

 _Sorry about that._

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _Why?_**

 ** _Why sorry?_**

 _/shrug_

 _I figured you'd think I was annoying._

 ** _I always think you're annoying._**

* * *

The response surprised a laugh out of her. She was pretty sure he was joking—she could practically hear his voice in her head, saying the line. But whether he was joking or not, he was being straight with her. Half jerk, half flirt, half total stranger. But it felt like before, like nothing had changed.

Nothing, except for the fact that she apparently now felt comfortable messaging Josh-fucking-Washington at 3 a.m. and he messaged her back.

How strange.

* * *

 _You're a liar and you know it._

 _I'm awesome._

 ** _You hve rollercoaster reactions to shit. You know that?_**

 ** _"I'm annoying jk I'm awesome."_**

* * *

That stung a little, though she shrugged it off. It wasn't the first time she'd been told she was too emotional. 'Volatile' was the word Beth had used, once upon a time. She wasn't sure what to say. Nothing about this was going the way she'd expected. But before she could calculate a response, Josh was typing again.

* * *

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _So are you all better then?_**

 _Are you?_

 ** _Lol_**

* * *

Somehow, that seemed like the only possible response. She smiled at the screen and mouthed the syllables. "Ell Oh Ell. Yeah, that sounds about right." A thought occurred to her.

* * *

 _Um… don't take this the wrong way, but if you're not supposed to be online, what if someone sees you on here?_

 _I mean I did_

 ** _[…]_**

* * *

His online signal vanished. She stared at his name, now greyed out and dull. "I didn't mean you should _vanish_ on me. Ugh." She shoved back from the desk and snatched her water bottle off the nightstand. It was nearly empty. Draining it, she tossed it onto her crumpled blankets and rubbed her forehead. She wasn't even sleepy and she had no idea what to do with herself. She wanted to keep talking to Josh. It felt like the first real conversation she'd had in a while.

Her laptop's screen flashed.

* * *

 ** _Better?_**

 _I thought you left lol_

 ** _I'm not that big of an assohle._**

 _Couldve fooled me._

 ** _Nice._**

 ** _Rly though. Why are you up?_**

* * *

She hesitated. 'Insomnia' was probably a cooler answer to give than 'nightmares,' but this night was already so surreal that she decided to just go for it. Adventurous goddess, right? Fuck it. She had nothing to lose.

* * *

 _Nightmare._

 _Again._

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _YOu too, huh?_**

 _What do you have nightmares about?_

 _Hannah?_

 ** _Sometimes._**

 ** _But the way that I saw her._**

 _What do you mean?_

* * *

Even as she typed the words, she knew. Her stomach knotted up as she remembered him babbling in the dark and the way he'd looked at her with curiosity. _You're not rotting and falling apart like the other two._ The other two.

"Oh Josh," she mumbled, staring at his messages. "Jesus."

More than five minutes went by without even a sign of him typing. It was possible he had actually gone to bed, but she sincerely doubted it. It was more likely that she'd crossed some line in asking. It was like the computer version of watching Sam's face close up.

* * *

 _Forget I asked._

 _Sorry._

 ** _No._**

 ** _No it's fine_**

 _I keep having nightmares about being back down there and stuff._

 _But I bet everyone has them._

 _I bet I got off easy._

 ** _You know its not a contest_**

 ** _*it's_**

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _I keep having a weird one where I'm in my backyar dby the pool at night and the lights are on, so the water's illuminated. Hannah and Beth are swimming. They want me to swim with them. But when I get in, the lights go out and thehy pull me under._**

 _I'm sorry._

 _Lol wow "sorry"_

 _That is SO not enough._

 _I am really sorry. I can't imagine what that's like._

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _It's okay. It's probably for the best._**

 _What do you mean?_

 _[…]_

 _Josh?_

 _What do you mean?_

* * *

He didn't respond. Eventually she sighed and shut her laptop. Either he'd been caught on the computer, fallen asleep, or just decided he was done. Either way, she didn't like sitting around and waiting.

Crossing back to her bed, she scooted back against the headboard and pulled her knees into her chest. Her room seemed especially dark after the light of the computer. Jess sighed again and let her head fall back. Sometimes it seemed like it had all been a story she'd heard or a movie she'd seen. Something not-real that she'd just absorbed into her brain until it felt like it happened.

Her phone buzzed. She rummaged in the blankets until she found it. One last message from Josh popped to the screen.

 ** _Here. Best thing for bad dreams. Watch it and sleep tight._**

She clicked the link and burst out laughing.

Only Josh would send her a horror movie as a cure for nightmares.


	6. Young and Full of Stupid

**Chapter Six:**

 **Young and Full of Stupid**

On her monitor, Tim Curry in white makeup and an awful wig smiled up from a storm drain. Jessica was extremely annoyed. She'd managed to go her whole life without watching scary clowns, which wasn't something she'd ever prided herself on before. Now, though, it seemed like it was a badge of honor she was surrendering. Ugh.

The day had been uneventful. No visitors, no excitement, no nothing. And yet, when night had fallen and she'd gone to bed out of pure boredom, she'd had another nightmare. Mike's hand, sliding up her leg, had grown long and thin and grey. She'd jerked awake as his nails had dug into the skin of her thigh, barely stifling a shout of fear and anger.

Not only was she watching the movie, she had given in and actually looked up the poem. It was less silly than she'd expected from the name. "Mithridates, he died old," she said softly, letting the words roll over her tongue. It was a fun name to say. She could see why Beth liked the poem, too. It sounded like Beth, like the exact mix of humor and cynicism and wit she had always associated with the girl. Beth always had something to say, a soft, snarky observation to murmur to Jess in gym.

That was when it had started. Eighth grade gym class, when they'd had to run laps. They were graded based on how fast they completed a full mile. Jess, who hated running when she didn't absolutely have to, had been walking lazily and watching the trees along the field shifting in a hot breeze, when Beth had dropped out of her jog next to Jess. "Enjoying the view?"

Jess had glared at her, but unlike so many of their classmates, Beth seemed entirely unimpressed by Jess's expression of disdain. "It's hot," she said slowly, wondering what the hell Beth wanted. Beth was one of the smart girls. She wasn't even in Jess's math class; she was in some advanced thing with Emily and Alexi and Tania. "Running is stupid."

The other girl strolled along next to her. "Yeah. What exactly do they think they're measuring?"

"The limits of our tolerance for being bossed around?" Jess smiled slightly. "Or maybe how good our deodorant is."

Beth wrinkled her nose. "Then they really need to tell Dave to upgrade. I figured they just hadn't noticed."

"You should hang out with him after they play basketball."

"No thanks. It's bad enough just after this class."

They'd both failed that run. Beth had never started running again and they'd spent the rest of the time just chatting and laughing.

She missed Beth. True, she tried not to talk about it much, since she didn't think anyone would take it well and besides, who would she tell? Emily had always viewed Beth as an academic rival and Sam… Jess's pain at missing Beth was nothing to Sam's. She knew that. But it still hurt to think that she was gone, that her own sister had— No. Jess shook her head. She couldn't be angry at Hannah. It wasn't like Hannah had killed her.

Jess had.

Better to watch a horror movie than dwell in that line of thought. Jess had spent enough time there already and it didn't hurt any less as time went on. She'd even watch something with tons of gore rather than remember Beth's delight when they'd found fossils at Vasquez with their girl scout troupe in 6th grade.

Anything would be better than remembering that.

She stared at Tim Curry. She'd have to watch something like _Clue_ or _Rocky Horror_ to get this version of him out of her system. She wanted to think he was cute and ridiculous, not shudder at the thought of him. As Tim Curry tore off the stupid kid's arm, Jess scowled at the screen and alt-tabbed over to her messaging program.

Josh still looked offline, but she figured she'd try him anyway on the off-chance that he was around. He needed to be yelled at.

Urgently.

In all caps.

* * *

 _WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME WATCH THIS? :(_

* * *

She was another fifteen minutes into the movie, drinking chamomile tea and thoroughly regretting her life choices, when he responded.

* * *

 ** _You're watching?_**

 ** _What do you mean? It's a classic!_**

 ** _A cinematic masterpiece!_**

 _It's creepy clowns killing children._

 _Masterpiece my ass!_

 ** _There's only one clown._**

 ** _And Tim curry is a god amongst mere mortals_**

 ** _…do you not like tim curry?_**

 ** _I don't think I can talk to you if you don't like time curry_**

 _TIME Curry?_

 ** _Tim_**

 ** _Shut up._**

 _Lol_

 _Of course I like him. I just didn't really ever need to see him murdering children._

 _How on earth is this supposed to help me with nightmares?_

 ** _I dunno_**

 ** _I like horror movies_**

 _Clearly_

 ** _And you weren't chased by a clown, irght?_**

 ** _So it's already an improvement. You can have nightmares about normal things_**

 _Like CLOWNS?_

 ** _Yup_**

 _You're an idiot._

 ** _Probably_**

 _[…]_

 _So is it like a monster or an alien or what?_

 ** _Watch and find out_**

 _:P_

She adjusted the windows so she could watch the movie while still talking to him. It helped reduce the stress of the film, which was nice. After about twenty minutes, she had to admit that it was actually starting to work. Somehow the more direct and viscerally obvious horror of the movie helped drive away the memories of the mine, or at least made them seem more distant.

Josh helped too, chiming in to make snide comments about casting choices and behind the scenes trivia.

 _Sooooooooo when does the monster grab him by his ponytail?_

 ** _Lol it doesn't but it should_**

 ** _He's just Stephen King's self insert character_**

 _So he doesn't die, then?_

 ** _Uh…_**

 ** _Maybe?_**

 _That's it. I'm done. You've ruined the whole movie now. Too many spoielrs._

 _Spoilers_

 ** _Psh. Ur fine._**

 ** _This kid is not fat. I don't know why they keep saying he is_**

 ** _He could totally kick that dude's ass if he wanted to_**

 _Wait, are you watching too?_

 ** _Kid just fell down the hill._**

Jess grinned at the words. If he was watching it, that made this even better. It was almost like sitting with him, listening to him ramble. Em had always hated when he did that, but Jess liked it. It made the creepiness less severe and sometimes Josh was pretty funny. Not that she'd ever tell him that.

If that's where he was, then she was a bit ahead of him. She paused the movie and slipped quietly, if awkwardly, down the dark hall to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The red light on the electric kettle warred with the green light of the microwave's clock, throwing the whole room into a kind of weird, separate dimension. If you'd told her a year ago that she'd be watching horror movies in her ugly-but-comfy pajamas and drinking tea with Josh Washington, she would have laughed in your face.

Messages were waiting when she returned with her tea.

 ** _Im glad it's so easy to join this club_**

 ** _*random kid shows up* Hey let me be here in your secret deal_**

 ** _*all the other kids* Sure!_**

 ** _No wonder they all get killed by mystery clowns_**

 ** _No common sense_**

 ** _Well, they don't die_**

 ** _OR DO THEY_**

 ** _Fuck_**

 ** _Don't read into any of what I justsaid_**

 ** _No spoilers here_**

She giggled as she read through them, hearing his voice in her head, getting increasingly desperate. Jess never cared about 'spoilers.' The way she thought about it, either it would be something cool that she'd want to see happen or it would be something that she didn't like and then she knew not to waste her time. And honesty, he had a point. The kids were pretty dumb. Although, really, she had been (and still was) just as dumb. She thought about storming out onto the porch in her underwear to scream at the night and winced. Talk about dumb.

On the nightstand behind her, her phone vibrated loudly and she jumped, only narrowly avoiding spilling her tea. Mouthing curse words to herself, she scrambled across the bed to grab it. The number was unfamiliar but she answered, curious.

"'lo?" Her voice cracked slightly from disuse and she tried again. "Hello?"

"I can't believe you'd answer the phone in the middle of the night. It's like you're asking to be in a horror movie."

"How is _that_ a horror movie thing?" she asked incredulously. Then it hit her and she frowned at the phone. "Wait, no. How are you calling me? You can't tell me they left Beth's phone connected too."

Josh snorted. "It's the house phone. Yes, my family still has an honest-to-god house phone. Please hold back on your shock and wonderment."

"And you called me?"

"Who else was I going to call?"

 _Chris. Sam._ She bit back the names before she could say them aloud. Sam had made it clear that she wasn't interested in seeing Josh and Jess certainly didn't want to bring any of it up. "I'm your default choice? I'm flattered."

"Default is a bit strong. Let's say 'last resort.'"

"Asshole."

He laughed softly, the sound rolling out of the phone and through her like a rush of warmth. It felt like it had been years since she'd heard another person laugh. Mike was always so strained and tense, Em so awkward, Matt so guilt-ridden, and Sam so cold… there was never any laughter in the visits she received. Or at least not any that was even slightly genuine. "Did I scare you off with my not-spoiler spoilers?"

Climbing back into her desk chair and blowing on her tea, Jess shook her head. "You know I don't give a shit. Although… do they all die? All of them?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah. That's why I asked."

"No, they don't all die."

Jess smiled at the dorky group of kids on the screen, her fingertips brushing over their determined faces. "Good."

-o-

Jess screamed, letting the sound tear itself from her throat and through the cab of the car. All the windows were rolled down, the night wind catching her hair and tangling it hopelessly. It was late. Some drivers were swerving dangerously. Everything was closed. She couldn't call her friends, since they'd want her to do something calm.

But it didn't matter. Nothing could dampen her joy. She was out of the house, _finally_. Given the go-ahead by the doctors, her parents had grudgingly let her take her car keys back, warning her to come back soon. She'd given them her best innocent smile and promised to just go get some fancy iced coffee or something.

Instead she was rocketing down the freeway, going faster than she should and loving every single ill-advised second of it. Her shoes were tossed haphazardly in the back seat and even the feel of her textured gas pedal under her bare foot felt like a kind of celebration. She cranked up the music, not caring what it was. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except the fact that she was making a decision for herself again.

Her parents were probably worried sick at this point, but maybe she could leverage her newfound immunity from being scolded to get a pass. So what if it'd been hours since she'd left? It wasn't like there were any monsters in Los Angeles to drag her through the snow.

…not that her parents had believed the monster part, anyway. No one had.

Impulse seized her and she jammed on the breaks, merging right and taking the nearest exit. She started to drive at least slightly more carefully. Getting pulled over would definitely ruin the buzz of freedom.

She parked along a street of houses that she could never dream of affording. In fact, she was pretty sure that her parents' house could fit into the garage of some of these places. Was it even a street? It seemed like it should have some kind of fancier name than just 'street' to indicate the fact that most of these houses were literally worth more than her entire life. Jess turned off her headlights and pulled out her phone. This was stupid.

"This is stupid," she said to herself, unable to hold back her smile. She was getting to do something stupid again. That thought probably shouldn't make her nearly as happy as it did. She sang it under her breath. "Stupid stupid stupid-id-id-id-id." There was probably even a horror movie where someone did the kind of thing she was doing now.

 _What r u doing?_

 _ **Nothing. Reading wikipedia articles mostly.** _

**_Did you know that the capital city of Turkmenistan is Ashgabat?_**

 ** _FAcsinating stuff_**

Jess had been there a few times before, for parties and movie nights, and she had vague memories of the way the grounds were laid out. There was a chance they'd acquired a huge guard dog or flood lights or something, but she was on a roll and she certainly wasn't going to let a little thing like common sense stop her now.

It took longer than she wanted to climb the short wall by the gate, and she was certain she didn't look like a badass action star while doing it. Still, she managed to skirt along the side of the house. The temptation to hum a spy movie theme song was strong, but that seemed like it would be guaranteed to get her caught, so she held back. That one was Josh's room, four windows over from the corner and just over the trellis.

Stooping down, she grabbed a handful of pebbles. They tinked against the window as she lobbed them gently upwards, but there was no movement. Fine. She'd take a more direct method. Rock throwing for the 21st century.

 _open ur window_

She waited, craning her neck upwards towards the window and hoping the house was too far from their neighbors for anyone to see her. This was stupid. She knew it was stupid. But as far as she knew, he wasn't actually on house arrest. Not the kind where they put an ankle monitor on you. And the thought of Josh locked in the house like she had been made her stomach twist. The cool night breeze caught at her hair, sending tendrils down across her face. The air smelled like the jasmine that clung to the trellis. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't afraid of getting dizzy and falling or his parents catching her or… or anything. She felt like she used to: young, free, and gloriously irresponsible. Perfect.

A coyote yipped, somewhere off in the hills beyond the house, the sound rapidly joined by another, then another. There was a click, then the sliding sound of the window opening. Josh stared down her from the dark of his room. "What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed through the screen.

Jess giggled. She felt fucking immortal and it was amazing. Beckoning to him, she pointed at the trellis. It was Josh, after all. There was no way in hell that he'd never snuck out of the house. "Come on, dummy. Let's get out of here."

He opened his mouth to argue, then disappeared back into the unlit room. After a few minutes, she felt her euphoria starting to fade. This really was a dumb idea. He wasn't going to come with her. Then there was a soft thwack as the heel of his palm hit the frame of the screen, popping it neatly out of place.

Sliding out onto the roof, he pulled the window back down until it was nearly shut. Josh slithered down the wood easily, hands and feet finding clearly familiar holds. Once on the flagstone ground, he dusted his hands off on his pants and turned to her, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Now what?"

She didn't answer, instead turning and heading back the way she'd come. They didn't speak as they snuck back down the side path, around the carefully pruned rose bushes and the pool's pumphouse. Getting back over the wall was easier now that Jess had done it once and she fancied that this time she looked at least marginally more graceful.

They didn't speak until they were both in the car, the doors shut and windows up. Jess let out a breathless giggle and her head fell back against the seat with a soft thump.

"No, really though. Now what?" She cracked an eye and glanced at him. Josh looked wary and more than a little paranoid, his eyes darting from side to side as if he was expecting people to jump out of the bushes and yank him from the car.

"Up to you, Mister Washington." Jess gestured out at the street. "I want to go do something dumb. You in?"

Josh stared at her and she felt her excitement falter once more. His hand was still on the handle, ready to leave and go back inside. Then he smiled, his eyes softening. He nodded. "I'm definitely in. Let's go somewhere."

"Everything's closed," she warned.

"Oh yeah."

For the second time that night, inspiration struck her. "I have an idea."

They parked in the lot of a closed sandwich shop under a lone, flickering fluorescent light. Jess was only about 70% sure her car would be here when they came back, but it would be worth it. Together they jogged across the street and dove into the bushes just as another car came around the bend towards them. It probably wasn't a cop, but on the off-chance that it was, Jess didn't want them to get spotted. That would ruin all of this before it even really got good.

Josh scrambled down the rocky slope, Jess following more slowly. Her head wasn't spinning constantly these days, but every now and then it still got the best of her. Coupled with her still painful foot, she wasn't as agile as she had been. As she put her foot down on a wide, flat rock and shifted her weight towards it, there was a soft sound of dirt shifting and the rock started to give. She barely had time to gasp before she felt herself falling. Josh, just a few feet below her, turned and caught at her arm awkwardly, pulling her up and keeping her from collapsing completely. She grabbed as his shoulder to steady herself. His hand on her arm was cold, but he felt almost abnormally warm.

"Thanks," she said, laughing lightly. "Some dancer, huh?"

His eyes were fixed on her face, dark and unreadable. "You're not better," he said finally. "You're still injured."

"I'm fine."

"No, you aren't."

She yanked her arm out of his grip. "You don't know everything, you know? And you sound like a dick when you pretend you do." Without another glance, she moved past him, almost running down the last few feet to where the rocks began to grow smaller and smaller. This stretch of the beach was deserted, though she could see tiny lights much further down. Beyond that, small and picturesque, she could see the pier, still aglow with its rainbow of neon, flashing in the darkness. The air, damp and cold and smelling of salt, caressed her face.

Her smile bloomed once more. This was what she'd wanted. There was something about the ocean that she'd always loved. It had something to do with the fact that it was beautiful and seemed so friendly, but could kill you and not even pause. She'd tried to articulate it once to Emily, but the other girl had just scoffed and told Jess that goth was no longer _de la mode_. "Fuck it," she murmured to herself, then giggled. Jess kicked off her shoes and bent to roll up the legs of her jeans.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting in the water."

"Why?"

Jess flashed him a defiant grin. "Because it's the ocean. Because we survived monsters and hypothermia and doctors and waiting and now it's time for me to get in the god-damned ocean." She shrieked as the frigid water lapped at her feet and laughed again. "So cold!"

"You're nuts." He said flatly.

"Takes one to know one!" she called back in a sing-song, raising her hands over head and letting the breeze slip through her fingers and tangle her hair still further. "Come on, Josh."

"No."

"No?" She spun back, smiling wickedly. "You would deny a lady her most fervent request?" Putting a hand on her hip, she took a step towards him, walking with all the over-the-top seductive allure she could muster. Jess stuck out her bottom lip and pouted, batting her eyes.

He laughed and shook his head. "That's not going to work on me."

"Oh come on… I know you're not immune to my charms."

"You are like the human equivalent of the winking emoji. Holy shit."

"I am choosing to take that as a compliment."

Either he hadn't noticed how close she was getting or he simply didn't think she would really try anything. But regardless, Jess was going to take advantage of it. She grabbed him by the wrists and pulled him forward towards the water, laughing. Josh yelped and tried to dig in his heels, but he stumbled after her instead. "No! No no no no… Jess, at least let me take off my shoes first!" She let him go and he fell backwards, landing hard on his rear. Glaring balefully up at her, he yanked off his boots, tossing them behind him into the rocky sand. "You suck."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just the one who busted you out and am now trying to help you live in the moment. I'm so mean." Jess stretched, feeling her back pop deliciously. "And I did let you take off your boots. That's pretty damn nice, I think."

He rolled up his pant legs a few times, muttering something about pushy blonde girls getting ahead of themselves. The breeze picked up, carrying a fine mist to Jess's face and she closed her eyes, savoring it. It was cold and damp and she was barefoot on rough sand. Perhaps it should have been unpleasant, after the similar characteristics of the mine, but the air made all the difference. The air, and the distant lights of civilization. They were alone, but they weren't _alone_.

Jess had always thought of herself as a bit of a cynic—though not nearly on Em's level—but now every sign of humanity was like a tiny blessing. She took a few steps forward, the water stinging her feet as it ebbed and flowed with its comforting rhythm. "Perfect," she said softly, looking out at the darkness beyond. She could hardly even tell where the water ended and the sky began, but it was a living darkness quite unlike that of the tunnels.

There was a soft hiss of indrawn breath and she glanced over to where Josh had stepped tentatively into the water. "Fucking freezing," he said bitterly, glowering at her.

"Whiner."

"Just stating a fact is not the same as whining."

"Said the whiner."

He rolled his eyes. "If I'm such a whiner, why did you bother picking me up?"

The laughter died in her throat and she turned back to the water. _For the hell of it_ , she wanted to say. _Because I was bored_ would work too, in reference to his excuse every time he'd visited her hospital room. _'Cause your hot_ would be a quick answer, easy to distract him with and not technically untrue. Or she supposed there was always the truth. But that way lay a more serious mood and just as she'd wanted to avoid his comments on her physical wellbeing, she didn't particularly want to talk about the rest of it either. "I just tried to think of the stupidest, most reckless thing I could do and you were top of the list."

"Does that mean you intend to 'do' me?" he asked, layering innuendo into his voice.

Jess scoffed. "You wish." Her skin felt tight and she stretched again, arching her neck back and trying to relieve some of the intolerable tension she'd felt building for the last few weeks.

"Hey…" His fingers brushed lightly against her shoulder and then pulled back. "Really. Why me? Why am I here and not one of your cronies? Not that I'm not grateful for the chance to lose my feet to hypothermia, but…"

After being lost in the mine for so long that she forgot what warmth felt like, the hypothermia comment felt like a bit of a stretch. Still, though, she supposed she owed him the same kind of honesty she'd asked him to give. "Josh, I don't want to answer that." She'd left him alone when he'd used that option. Maybe he'd extend her the same courtesy.

"Tell me."

Jess scowled at the ocean. "Figures you won't leave well enough alone. I don't even know why you care. Isn't it enough that you're out of your stupid house for the first time in who knows how long? But still you just keep pushing and I—"

"Jess."

She jerked her shoulders in an approximation of a shrug. "I like talking to you. I'm lonely. I wanted to do something reckless and I wanted to do it with someone who will talk to me."

The dark-haired man sneered, looking down at where the tide was coming up, lapping around his ankles. "Cry me a river. You've got friends. You've even got your precious asshat boyfriend. You can't talk about being lonely when you're actively dating someone."

"Are you kidding?" She glared at him. "Mike won't even fucking touch me."

He glanced at her, curious. "What? Why not?"

Jess shoved his shoulder, forcing him to take a clumsy step to the side to catch himself. He stumbled in the soft sand and his eyes widened in momentary surprise, then darkened. He folded his arms over his chest, a wall. She tried to explain and felt the words burst forth in a rush. "Because he still thinks I'm some fragile piece of glass. Everyone fucking does. My parents can hardly look at me without tears in their eyes. Mike kisses my cheek like I'm a child and can barely hug me. Emily— _Emily —_ brought me a fucking teddy bear. It talks. It says 'Get better bear-y soon.'"

He shrugged. "What do you expect?"

"I expect them to treat me like an adult. I don't see them treating anyone else like this. Not even Ashley, and she's having panic attacks constantly, if what Matt said is true. That's not friendship. That's _pity_." She spat out the word, the taste of it lingering on her tongue. Bitterness curdled in her chest like heartburn.

"Let me get this straight… You're angry that they're being nice to you?" She didn't think Josh could layer more derision into his voice if he tried.

She swallowed hard, furious tears stinging her eyes. She hated that she cried when she was angry. It only confirmed what people always suspected. They always assumed she was just sensitive, easily hurt, when really it was rage. "I knew you wouldn't get it," she mumbled, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes.

Cold fingertips brushed along her cheek and she froze, not moving her hands. His fingers slid back into her hair and tightened, tugging her hair slightly, drawing her head up. His voice was soft, measured. "I get it."

"You don't. You obviously don't. I don't know why I thought—"

"You forget," he said slowly. His hand, fingers tangled in her hair, tipped her head to the side and she finally dropped her hands. Josh's eyes bore into her, those strange, dark, deep-set eyes that had always unsettled her. "I was down there with you, Jess. I know you aren't fragile."

"But—"

"And you're like me." The muscles in his throat shifted as he swallowed, then his lips quirked in a slight smile. "Too much pride. Hubris, Chris would say."

She scoffed. "You're just a cocky asshole."

"So are you."

Jess couldn't blink, couldn't look away. It was like he'd caught her with his eyes, holding her fixed in place the way she'd always imagined a snake would. And there was the gentle, confident pull of his hand in her hair, the subtle scent of him, like too much coffee and ink and the salt of the ocean that seemed to be everywhere.

He pulled her forward, his lips crashing down on hers. It was such a relief that she could have wept. Instead she moaned, letting him take advantage of it to deepen the kiss, moving with a surety that she should have expected from him. That was how Josh had always seemed in school and other social situations: supremely confident. He was always in control; the master of the world. His free hand came up to cup her cheek and she felt his fingers tremble slightly.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. He wasn't nearly as confident as he wanted to seem, then. Somehow, that made her feel better. Jess stepped in to him, sliding her hands over his shoulders to twine behind his head, wanting more, needing to be closer. His skin was warm, even hot to the touch and the curls at the nape of his neck were soft. He felt solid, if skinnier than she would have imagined, though that probably came from the long time in the mine. God knew she'd lost more weight than she'd ever wanted to.

Breaking away, he let his head drop down, kissing and nipping his way along her throat and setting her skin on fire. She groaned, her hands tugging instinctively against him, pulling him in. His teeth dragged along her collarbone and she bit back a curse. "Josh, what are we—" His free hand slid up her side, brushing against her breast and she lost whatever words she'd had. It was good. It was too good to be real.

It was like being warm again for the first time after the mine or getting to finally dig her teeth into a burger and dip her fries into her milkshake. She'd known she missed sex, but she'd had no idea how desperately touch-starved she'd been. Not until she was being held, touched, kissed, _wanted_ the way she was.

Josh recaptured her lips, yanking her into him with almost bruising force. They both overbalanced and fell backwards onto the sand. Pushing herself up and straddling his lap, Jess looked down at him. He looked dazed and a little lost, his eyes shaded with something dark that she'd been missing. She dragged her nails lightly down his chest. At a spot near the bottom of his ribs, he jerked, growling, and she grinned with delight. "Joshua Washington, are you _ticklish_?"

His hands slid slowly up her thighs, pressing through the denim of her jeans, and her hips jerked with an entirely different kind of frantic energy. Josh smirked. "Jessica Riley, are _you_ ticklish? Or is it… something else?"

She rolled her hips again and his smug smile faded into something more predatory and raw. He was hot under her hands, hard and sinewy and real and _there_. With her. Looking at her like he wanted to do things to her that would make her shudder and scream. Her tongue darted out to moisten lips that suddenly seemed too dry. Slowly, carefully, she leaned down and kissed him. Strong fingers gripped her hips, guiding her as she surged against him. Heat, already racing through her veins, pooled low in her belly, urging her on, begging for more.

The fact that it was Josh underneath her made it all the more intense: strange, off-putting Josh with his knowing smile and his puppet master instincts. It wasn't like she'd never thought about it. Anyone with eyes who was interested in men would think about it, she was sure.

He thrust upwards, grinding her down into him and she pulled away with a gasp, her head falling to rest heavily against his jaw. His pulse raced wildly in his neck and she pressed her lips to it, her tongue darting out to taste the salt of his skin and the ocean mingled. Josh let out a strangled sound that was almost a moan and another thrill of need shot through her. She wanted him. They were still fully clothed, for fuck's sake, but she wanted him. She needed him.

His hands were fumbling with her shirt, sliding under the hem to stroke up her back. As his fingers slid along the edge of her bra and flicked across one sensitive nipple, she reared back. "Oh fuck."

That knowing little smile played across his lips once more and he did it again, teasing her. She felt like she was going to go mad. It made no sense, any of this, but it didn't matter. She felt more alive than she had in weeks. Maybe months.

Then his hand vanished, slipping back out from under her shirt. Instead, he rested his palms on her shoulders and his smile turned rueful. "We should go back." The words made sense individually, but didn't track in her head. He smoothed his hands down her sides in a way that did nothing to abate the need still pulsing through her. "We should go back, Jess. Before they realize I'm gone."

Reality crashed down hard. Stupid. She was so fucking stupid. Jess shoved herself off of him, stumbling as she regained her footing and headed for her shoes. Yanking them on, she tried to get her breathing back under control. She was halfway up the rocky slope back to the road before he even had his boots on and they dodged across the street one at a time, skirting around a bus stop and back to the car.

They drove in silence. She didn't even want the radio on. Of-fucking-course it would end like this. She always did manage to forget that her adventures often ended in disaster and awkwardness. And now she was losing out on the one person who would talk to her normally just because she couldn't keep her fucking hormones in check. Great. Just fucking great.

He climbed out of the car and hopped the wall easily, heading back towards his house. Jess stared numbly at the wheel for a few minutes before pulling away from the curb and heading home.

Whether it was by conscious choice to let her stay out without repercussions or because her parents simply hadn't realized she was going to be out so late, the house was dark and her parents were in bed. She deposited the keys as quietly as she could and all-but ran into her room. Sand scattered across the carpet as she stripped angrily out of her jeans and threw them across the room. Not only was that idiotic and now Josh was never going to talk to her again, but she'd actually… her blood went cold. She'd actually cheated on Mike.

She was going to break up with him tomorrow. There was no way around it. Obviously he wasn't getting over his whole issue of her being breakable and if she was willing to… no. They were done. It was time. Really, she felt like Mike had dumped her weeks ago, when she'd seen him in the hospital. He'd just been too scared or felt like too much of an asshole to actually do it.

Her room seemed too small after the beach. Jess yanked her window open and shoved her fan onto the sill, letting it draw in air from outside. A blue light blinked on her phone. She watched it for a minute before sighing and grabbing it off of the floor where it had fallen. The messaging app was blinking an alert.

 ** _Hey._**

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _I didn't get busted. Thanks fo rrushing me home_**

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _I'll try to think of something fun for our next jailbreak._**

 ** _If you want_**

 _Rly? U were done so fast_

 ** _I am going to choose to not take that as a commentary on my stamina_**

 _U know what I mean_

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _I panicked._**

 ** _Sorry._**

Jess stared at the words. "I panicked," she mouthed, reading them silently to herself. "Sorry."

It hadn't occurred to her that Josh might be just as freaked out by what happened as she was. And even now, after the frustrated, angry drive home and her subsequent anxiety about Mike and whatever the fuck she was doing, there was still a knot of need deep in her chest. She wanted the force of his hands and his bruising kisses and the way he acted like nothing had changed, when obviously so much had. It was easy to remember the way his fingers had been shaking as he touched her. He needed her too, in some sense or another.

She wouldn't pretend to understand Josh and she wasn't even entirely sure she understood herself, but the words shone black and crisp against the blue background of the app. "I panicked. Sorry."

In the morning, she had a very unpleasant conversation to have with Mike and more strained talks with her parents and probably more doctors and isolation and feeling stuck. For now, though, she just messaged back, her thumb sweeping across the screen.

 _It's okay._

 _I panicked too_

 _Talk tomorrow?_

 ** _Yeah._**

 ** _Night Jess_**

 _Good night Josh_

 ** _Sweet dreams_**

 ** _Clowns only_**

 ** _No cave monsters_**


	7. Cherry Coke

**Chapter Seven:**

 **Cherry Coke**

Mike didn't spot her immediately upon leaving his house; that much was clear. She leaned against her car and waited, her heart pounding. He shoved his keys in his pocket and headed for the curb, thumbing through his phone and paying no attention to his surroundings. Frowning, she found she envied his ability to be oblivious. It felt like she was on high alert all the time, waiting for something to grab her out of nowhere.

Though she'd been there many times, now she felt out of place in front of the house he shared with his roommates just off campus. She fiddled nervously with the end of her braid and tried to stay calm. He wasn't going to be mad at her, after all. He couldn't be. He was clearly over the relationship himself, so a breakup could hardly come as a surprise. Finally she cleared her throat pointedly and he glanced up.

He stared at her blankly for a second, clearly shocked to see her, then covered it up with a wide smile. It was an infectious smile, his class president smile. The one that made Hannah fall head over heels for him. But now it just made Jess feel uncomfortable. It was a lie. She could see it in the way it didn't quite make it to his eyes. Mike strolled over to her. "And what did I do to deserve this awesome surprise?"

Okay, no. She wasn't going to do this. She wasn't going to make small talk or pretend like things were fine. Direct and honest, Jess, she told herself sharply. Like ripping off a bandage. "Mike, can we talk?"

"Of course."

"No, I mean… Somewhere a little more private than out on the sidewalk?"

His gaze dropped to his phone and then back to her. "Uh… Yeah. Definitely."

Mike was never very good at playing it cool when he felt awkward. She reached out and flicked her fingers against his sleeve, smiling as best she could. "You got a date you're late for?"

He blanched and shook his head quickly and rushed to reassure her. "Nothing like that, Jess. I swear, I—"

Privacy could go get fucked. She was so sick of the pity in his voice, that eagerness to convince her that he would take care of her every need. You didn't get to play at being Prince Charming while refusing to kiss the fucking princess. "Mike, I think we should break up."

If she had hit him in the face with a branch, he could not have looked more surprised. "What?"

"I told you I wanted to do this in private. But I guess you have somewhere to be and that's fine. I just figured I should do this face-to-face and not over the phone." Jess folded her arms over her chest and forced herself to keep her eyes up. She felt the ghost of Josh's lips on her throat and suppressed a shiver. Despite what had almost happened, this was the right thing to do. If she was honest with herself, she'd been thinking about this since she'd come back from the hospital. Mike still looked confused, staring at her as if he didn't recognize her. "I'm sorry. I know you tried. But I think we should call this what it is."

"But I—"

She didn't want to hear him profess love or try to convince her to stay with him. His handsome, familiar features seemed tired, now that she saw him in the bright light of the California sun. He seemed different than she remembered, and not just from the scars or missing fingers. There was a gravity to his movements, a heaviness, as if he was constantly bracing himself against some unseen potential threat. It probably wasn't that different than her urge to freeze in place. They all had their strange new burdens.

No confession of love came. Mike sighed and rubbed his hand over face. "Are you sure?" he asked finally.

"Yeah." Jess smiled again, with a bit more certainty this time. "Thanks again for, you know, saving my life? And for snowballs and… and everything."

He nodded tightly. "Yeah."

There was so much more she wanted to say, apologies she wanted to give and explanations for which she had no words. "I won't keep you. See you around, Mike."

Jess didn't wait, couldn't bear another second of awkward silence. It wasn't like she was saying goodbye forever, she told herself as she climbed back into her car. Just the end of a relationship. It wasn't her first breakup. She doubted it would be her last.

She hadn't been back to her dorm since she'd come back. The building was nearly deserted at 3 p.m. on a Thursday and she didn't see anyone she knew by name as she swiped her ID and headed inside. Though most of the freshman dorms were set up for roommates, she'd lucked into the one building that used to be graduate housing. It meant that the rooms were ruled too small for more than one occupant, which in turn meant that she didn't have to put up with a roommate.

It suited her well, since she'd never had to share a room with anyone before. The idea of bunking up with some random chick had been unappealing at best.

Her room had barely been touched since she'd gone up to Mount Washington. It looked like her parents had come by to get her laptop and a few other random sundries, but everything else was still in place. They hadn't even made her bed when they came by. Jess perched on the stiff twin mattress and looked around. She wasn't sure why she'd come here, except to have an alternative to going back home.

At the very least, she supposed, she could get some clothes that her mom hadn't picked. She stripped out of her jeans and tank top, shoving them into her backpack. It was hot down here. It was always hot. Jess yanked one of her favorite dresses out of the closet and slipped it over her head. She brushed out her hair and re-braided it, then rummaged in the top desk drawer for her makeup bag.

Every motion felt both pointless and oddly sacred, like she was putting on war paint.

As she stood in front of the mirror on the back of her door, she studied herself. She was thin, thinner than she'd been since quitting dance and ending her intense dieting practices. Any baby fat was gone, driven away by what she'd been through. She still looked like herself, for the most part. Her hair was sleek, her lips were shiny with gloss, her eyelashes thick and dark.

But the short hemline didn't just show off her legs. Now it also displayed long, angry-looking scars on her thighs. The top of the dress, with its thin straps and low neckline also showed the ones on her chest, just to the right of her sternum, and the ones marring her left shoulder. The ones on her stomach were hidden, at least.

Were they even called scars at this point? They weren't scabs any more, but they also weren't silvery or faded. Against her pale skin, they seemed even more noticeable. Maybe they would go away eventually and not turn into true scars at all.

Jess snorted. Sure. And pigs might fly and she might get a contract with Vogue and Emily might change her mind. As long as she was wallowing in delusion, she might as well go for it all the way.

Something buzzed. Fumbling in her backpack, she pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans. A text from her mom.

How late are you planning to be out?

Should we expect you for dinner?

She rolled her eyes. That was remarkably restrained. Maybe her parents had been picking up on her cabin fever or maybe they were just still in a remarkably forgiving mood. Either way, she shouldn't push it. Not if she wanted to keep her freedom as much as possible. That was the trick—you behaved when you didn't have anything better to do and then they wouldn't take it so hard when you tried something crazy.

Quickly, not giving herself time to think too hard about it, she grabbed other clothing items and thrust them into her bag. Hesitating only slightly, she rummaged in her nightstand and shoved the small box she found into the bag too. With one last glance in the mirror, she gritted her teeth, tossed the bag over her shoulder, and headed out the door. If seeing her injuries made other people flinch away, so much the better. She really didn't want to have to talk to anyone right now.

She put up with dinner, trying to eat as much of it as she could in the hopes that it might help her regain some of her lost weight. It was another point in the 'parent goodwill' column too; she could see her mother shooting smiles at her dad. Surprisingly, it didn't bother her. Let them be pleased she was eating as long as they didn't nag her about it or make smug comments about how glad they were that she was healing.

Finally free again, Jess collapsed on her bed, sprawling out and staring up at the greenish-white stars stuck in various spots. The fan was still going, sending cool evening air circulating through. It was nice to be in her own clothes again, picked out by her and not just be default from the stuff her parents had assembled.

The mattress was softer than the one at her dorm, the comforter her old familiar one from childhood. It was early still, but after the events of the day—and the night before—she was tired. Her head spun slightly as she shoved herself to her feet. She took her nightly routine slowly, washing her face and putting on lotion, brushing her teeth and changing into a nightshirt. She eased into the sheets with a sigh and shut her eyes.

And couldn't sleep.

"Fuck," she groaned, pressing her fists against her eyes. It just wasn't fair. She actually wanted to sleep and now she couldn't?

Every time she closed her eyes, something else popped into her head: Mike's face when he'd noticed she was there, the injuries marring her skin, the emptiness of her dorm room… the way Josh's fingers had gripped her hair, the feel of his teeth on her skin, the feel of him underneath her. Jess hadn't even realized her hands were skimming down her body, brushing along her stomach and the bones of her hips to…

"Fuck!" she snapped, yanking her hands up and shoving them under her pillow. "No. Nope. Nuh-uh."

She would just have to will herself to sleep.

-o-

 _[1:03 a.m.]_

 _You up?_

 _[1:14 a.m.]_

 _I guess you're sleeping._

 _like sane people do._

 _or so I'm told_

 _[1:22 a.m.]_

 _Hve you seen the wraith?_

 _Charlie Sheen tries to do horror. It's exactly the car wreck you'd expect._

 _Pun intended, since it's about street racing_

 _the bad guy is the best actor_

 _fun fact. He's also the guy who ended up directing the notebook_

 _not that I've seen the notebook_

 _obviously_

 _[1:47 a.m.]_

 _Anyway, you should see this some time_

 _I bet you'd like it_

 _[1:50 a.m.]_

 _I have an idea btw_

 _If you want to bust me out again some itme soon_

 _*time_

 _Jsyk_

 _sleep tight_

Several hours later, in the early morning light, Jess smiled softly at her phone and swiped her thumb around the screen. Then she shoved it under her pillow and rolled over to go back to sleep.

 _U should show me the movie._

 _I hope u got some sleep_

 _just in case a lunatic kidnaps u 2nite_

 _;-)_

-o-

Jess stared at the messages. What the fuck had she been thinking? Suggesting that she was going to pick him up again and… do what? Whatever mystery plan he'd come up with? The last mystery plan of his that she'd heard of had involved entrails. It was dark and her parents were maybe an hour away from bed. Soon she'd be able to slip out and go get him. Unless she cancelled, that was. After all, what if his plan was something weird and crazy?

She shook her head hard, her braids flipping from side to side. She was being ridiculous. This was Josh. It wasn't like she was dating the Joker.

…not that she was dating Josh either. God, she couldn't even imagine what a disaster that would be. She just liked hanging out with someone who didn't treat her with kid gloves. It was really that simple.

Staring out the window at the dark, but still fairly busy street, she sighed. She wasn't going to cancel. Pretending she was seriously considering it was stupid. She might be lying to her parents, but lying to herself was pointless. Jess was a good liar, but she wasn't that good. Not enough to convince herself, especially about something dumb. A strange excitement was fizzing in her veins, too. She really wanted to know what he was planning.

 _What's your plan?_

 ** _[…]_**

 ** _no spoilers!_**

 _Will you at least tell me what kind of shoes to wear?_

 ** _…why?_**

 _Because some of my shoes are not great for hiking_

 _Or running away from the cops_

 _Stuff like that_

 ** _Lol_**

 ** _no cops_**

 ** _probably_**

 _Not helpful, Joshua._

 ** _You'll be fine_**

 ** _just don't be braefoot and you'll be good_**

 _Not._

 _Helpful._

 _:P_

Well, that was remarkably vague. Jess put on pajamas and kissed her parents goodnight. Once she heard nothing but silence in the house, she re-dressed. Pleased with her foresight the day before, she dug through her bag for more of her clothes from the dorm. Her favorite skirt was even shorter than the dress had been, but Josh could just deal with that. He knew she was scarred up. She pulled it on, followed by a lavender camisole and that lacy drape top that her mom had made her promise to always wear over something. Maybe it was silly to care so much about her clothing choices.

"Anything beats nothing," she muttered rifling through her closet for a sweatshirt in case it got chilly. It was true: any clothes she wore would beat what she'd been stuck wearing underground. But there was power in looking good and, even scarred and bony, she wasn't about to give up that power if she could help it.

Jess sighed, then carefully crouched down to dig under her bed until she found her old sneakers, cracked and worn and dirty. If it came to it, she could probably run from the police in them. She really hoped it wouldn't come to that, though.

She drove with extra caution, just in case.

 _U need me to come get u?_

 _Or can u walk down to the car by urself?_

 ** _I think ic an manage_**

 _ **I'm a big boy**_

"Ooookay," she said quickly, pointedly turning up the radio and forcing herself to hum along. No innuendos to read into there. At all. "Shit." She let her head fall forward to thunk against the wheel.

Josh pulled at the handle and she realized it was still locked. He shot her a dirty look as he finally slid into the passenger seat. "You want me to get caught?"

"Yeah," she said drily, rolling her eyes. "That was my goal this entire time. You have discovered my cunning and sneaky plot to get you in trouble with your parents." She watched him, her eyebrows raised, until he finally sighed and shrugged.

"Fine. Sorry. Just on edge. I'm not even supposed to be talking to people outside, much less staging repeat jailbreaks and going to—" He laughed and waved a hand dramatically. "Ah, but that would spoil the surprise."

She stuck her tongue out at him and put the car in gear. "You know you're going to have to tell me. I'm the driver."

"I shall grant you directions and you may follow them, peasant."

"Uh… you will tell me directions politely and stop acting like I'm your chauffeur. Also, call me peasant again and I will kick you in the balls." But she couldn't hold her angry face and giggled. "Where to?"

He read from his hand as they drove, squinting slightly at the smudged writing on his palm. Jess resisted the urge to point out that he could have used a piece of paper and simply followed along, trying to ignore the anticipatory buzzing in her chest. Finally she pulled off the highway and navigated down narrow Hollywood streets to pull up in front of a worn-down, decrepit building. "Uh… I don't think we should go in there. It doesn't look… open?"

"Fuck!" Josh growled, flipping off the darkened windows and the grey, unlit neon 'open' sign. "Fuck you, internet. Fuck you and fuck your mom and fuck your dog."

She giggled nervously. "Who is the internet's mom, exactly?"

Shrugging, he scowled at the building. "I don't know. There's probably some lady programmer who got screwed over by history though, right?"

"That does seem to be the pattern."

"Dammit! I looked it up and it said it would be open."

"What is it, exactly? This looks like a place you'd take someone to get them murdered." Jess narrowed her eyes and poked Josh hard in the arm. "This isn't a place you were taking me to get me murdered, right?"

Folding his arms over his chest, he slumped back in the seat. "Fuck," he muttered again. "Every time I try to plan something, it… fuck."

"But what is it, though?" she repeated, leaning across Josh to peer out at the building. It really didn't look like much.

"It's a record store. Internet said it was open late. I used to find all kinds of weird random crap there and I thought it would be cool to show you." His voice sounded strange, almost hoarse, and she glanced at him. She hadn't thought, when she had scooted over to look out his window, that she was going to be almost climbing into his lap. He was much closer than she'd realized. Josh's eyes dropped to her lips for a moment before he yanked his gaze away and jerked his shoulders in a frustrated shrug. "Whatever. It doesn't matter."

Jess sat back in the driver's seat and drummed her fingers lightly on the steering wheel, breathing as carefully as she could. Unbidden, the memory of his hands sliding up her denim-covered legs returned and she forced a nervous laugh. "Okay. So. Plan." Humming thoughtfully, she put the car into drive and pulled back into the street. It only took a minute before she spotted what she was looking for and, shooting Josh an impish smile, she went around the block and wedged her car into a narrow spot. "Come on."

He followed her onto the curb and down the street. It wasn't busy exactly, though there were cars going by and the occasional other pedestrian. Most of the businesses on the block were closed, metal grates pulled down over the shop fronts and the lights turned off. Here and there the odd late-night food place was still open, but that's not what Jess was after. Grabbing Josh's wrist, she drew him down an alleyway. It was lit enough to be deserted; no one wanted to camp out in a place they were so obvious. Big metal dumpsters were spaced at odd intervals. There was little smell from them too, Jess noticed gratefully. They must have just come by to empty them.

Together then passed through the alley and out onto the next street over. Jess grinned. "There we go! That's what I'm talking about." She caught Josh staring at her incredulously and laughed. "Oh, come on. You can't tell me it doesn't sound good right now."

Josh eyed the 7-11 and its blazing fluorescent lights apprehensively as they approached. "It depends on what you think sounds good. I have no interest in eating a hotdog that's been rotating in the same spot for the last nineteen hours."

"Ew. No, of course not. I want a slushy! Didn't you get those?"

"Yeah, but I guess—I'm just not sure why you're so excited."

She scoffed. "Uh, because they're awesome? Pure cold sugary awesome. The blue raspberry ones are the best."

They were out of blue raspberry syrup, so she settled on cherry. Beggars couldn't be choosers, right? Popping on the plastic lid and sliding the straw into place, Jess backed up and gestured for Josh to get one. For all his derision, she saw him smile as he pulled the handle and his cup filled with a swirling light brown concoction. He seemed relaxed, she noticed as she watched him. Largely turned away from her, it was easy to see the way his shoulders seemed lower and looser, his neck not as stiff.

It was good to see him out of those awful overalls, too. She hadn't been joking about it being a bad look. They hid his waist and did nothing but make him look saggy. Now, the chocolate brown Henley pulled tight across his shoulders and he looked…

Jess cleared her throat and took a big gulp of the fizzy, cherry-flavored ice. Again, with the distractions. God. She needed to figure something out soon, because this was getting ridiculous. She was a fucking idiot. That's all it was. A lonely, frustrated idiot. "Josh, I'm going to go pay. I'll meet you up front." She bought both the drinks and waved off Josh's attempt to give her cash. "My idea. My treat."

"I owe you one, then. Next one's on me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what exactly will the next one be?"

"It's a secret."

"Like the closed record store? I'm not sure I trust your secrets anymore. Next time I might end up in an abandoned building or something."

"It was a good idea!"

"I'm still not convinced that you weren't trying to murder me."

He groaned, throwing his free hand into the air and reeling backwards in overwrought frustration. "You are impossible, you know that?"

"Impossibly gorgeous, maybe." She shoved the door open with her hip and held it as he strolled out, sipping his drink. "See? Told you it would be good. The Coke ones are good too. That was what I always used to get in junior high. There was a 7-11 right by my bus stop."

"Tastes like diabetes."

Jess rolled her eyes. "If you didn't like it, you wouldn't drink it. You're more stubborn than I am. Which, delightfully, is how I know you're full of shit!" She smiled brightly at him and wandered down the street, savoring the overly-sweet chemical cherry flavor of her drink. The icy cold of it was nice. A car zoomed by and she heard a piercing whistle. Jess pursed her lips and flipped off the receding taillights.

"I figured you'd be used to that sort of thing," Josh commented.

"Whether I am or not, it's a shitty thing to do," she said, frowning at him. "It's super creepy."

He tipped his head to the side, slurping on his straw. "Why?"

"Seriously?"

"I mean, I don't do it. But I always thought it was kind of a compliment, right? They're saying you're hot."

"Oh my god." Jess stared at him. How could he have grown up with sisters and not realized what an unsettling thing it was. "No, okay, look. You're here. With me. And that's great. But just think for a second about how it would feel to be alone on a street—especially at night—and have some creeper in a raised truck honk at you." He was just watching her, drinking his slushy, so she continued, trying to articulate it. She'd never had to explain this sort of thing before. "Okay, at best, they're trying to say that they think I'm attractive. But even if so, what exactly does that imply? They're strangers. They're not trying to talk to me—most of the time, at least—and what am I supposed to think? What if they pulled over? What am I supposed to do?"

Frustrated, she sucked on her straw, trying to calm down. "I'm not explaining this well. Basically it's creepy because people are scary and you never know what they're going to do or how far they're going to take it. And, honestly, I can't believe that Beth and Hannah never talked about this."

The words were out before she could stop them and she braced herself, waiting for his reaction.

But Josh just shrugged, smiling a little. "Maybe they did, but not with me. I…" He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, glancing down at his feet. "I have a history of overreacting a little when it comes to them."

She snorted. That was the understatement of the year.

He seemed to realize what she was thinking of and looked pained. "Oh. I don't mean the thing at the lodge. Although, yeah, that's probably a pretty good example. I just do not have a good track record when it comes to finding out that they're—that they were—being bullied or harassed." Jess fought the urge to laugh again with limited success. He shot her a wry look. "I mean from before that. From before—" Before they died. She could hear the end of the sentence hanging in the air between them even as he broke off, looking away and taking another gulp.

This was insane. Her life was insane. How was she standing here, on some random street in L.A., drinking slushies and talking about catcalling and bullying dead girls with Josh Washington. In a strange way, it felt like it was all one long dream—from the moment she'd stepped off the bus at the base of the mountain until now. Maybe she'd died. She'd heard once that you could feel like you experienced an entire lifetime in the seconds after you died. Jess pinched herself, fingers cold from holding the drink, and winced again.

"What was that for?"

Jess flushed and took another determined sip of her drink. "Nothing. This just feels kind of surreal, you know? Like… Nevermind." She was just being melodramatic. That was all.

"Tell me."

"This. All of this. You, me… being here. I just…" It was one thing to be honest in the dark at the beach where she could hardly see him or online where she could think through her words before hitting the send button. This was harder. He was watching her and it was so hard to read his face. It always had been. She straightened and tried to find the right words. "I just keep feeling kind of numb, you know? Like none of this is really happening. Any of it. Not tonight, not this morning, not even coming off the mountain. Fuck, not even going to the mountain. The things that feel real in my head… they're all the things I'm not supposed to talk about. Like the broken glass from the cabin window or being in the mine. That's why I liked going to the beach the other night. It was undeniable. Like, there's no way I could have imagined it, right? It felt real. Physical evidence." She forced an awkward giggle. "See? That's why I said 'nevermind.' It's just dumb stuff."

Josh was looking out across the street, his eyes not focused on anything in particular. On the other side of the road, a group of girls were stumbling drunkenly along the sidewalk, laughing and talking. She watched them for a minute, envying their happy thoughtlessness. The slushy made a horrible noise as she sucked on the straw, but artificial flavor flooded her taste buds and helped loosen the knot in her chest.

She turned and headed towards the alleyway that would lead back to the car.

"It's not dumb." His voice was so quiet she almost missed it.

"What?"

"It isn't dumb," Josh repeated, coming up beside her and idly playing with the straw in his cup. "I— It isn't dumb."

Their footsteps seemed overly loud in the deserted alley. "Can I have a bit of yours?" she asked, trying to return the conversation somewhere easy. The cherry of her drink was good, but she wanted something different. "We can trade?"

They exchanged cups and she paused to take a taste. It almost made her wish she'd gotten that flavor instead. She closed her eyes and sucked on the straw, taking another, bigger sip. It reminded her of getting the dollar-sized ones in 8th grade, using her bus money to pay for them and then lying to the bus driver about forgetting the money at home. She'd always had a feeling he knew she was lying, but he never called her on it. She hummed appreciatively and opened her eyes, to find Josh staring at her, his dark eyes fixed on her mouth.

Color flooded her cheeks and she held the drink back out to him. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to drink so much."

He swallowed hard and shook his head. "No. No, that's fine."

She shook the cup, still holding it out towards him. "Josh, do you not—" Her eyes flicked down to the straw and then back to the strange look on his face and flushed even harder, her heart pounding. Oh. Slowly, watching him, she brought the cup back up and took a long sip, her lips wrapping around the straw. He swallowed again and frowned.

"You're doing that on purpose."

Heat curled low in her belly and she smiled, the corners of her lips quirking up. "Well, I wasn't before, but…"

Both cups hit the ground as Jess was suddenly pressed up against the building's wall. Josh's hands caught her wrists, pinning them to the dirty brick on either side of her head. "What are you doing?" Josh asked, his voice soft and slightly hoarse. He looked frustrated, his eyes shaded with something she was hesitant to name out of fear she might be wrong. "What are you doing, Jess?"

"What do you mean?" The words trembled only slightly. He was so close, his body only an inch from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Why are you doing this? Why— Why would you—" Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and he groaned. "Stop that."

She huffed out a breath of laughter. "I'm not doing anything."

The sound he made was almost a growl as he pressed in, his grip on her wrists painful and his body crushing against hers. His lips hovered next to her ear. "Yes, you are. And you fucking know it. Stop. Unless you want—"

Her entire body was on fire. The brush of his breath on her ear, the press of his hands, his chest against her… she shuddered and bit down on her lip to stifle a moan. He growled in earnest, hips thrusting against hers, and she could feel him even through his jeans, hard and ready. "Josh…"

"Tell me to stop," he muttered, the words almost inaudible. "You should tell me to stop."

She shook her head as much as she could. "Don't stop."

Josh pulled back, his eyes boring into hers. "Do you want—"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"Are you sure—"

"Yes," she said as firmly as she could, holding his gaze. "Josh, please—"

Slowly, achingly slowly, he moved her arms over her head, pinning them in place with his left hand. His right hand trailed down, fingers smoothing over her hair and brushing along the side of her face. Jess bit her lip again, her eyes fluttering closed. He gripped her chin, lifting it. "Look at me."

She did, her head swimming. Josh was staring at her with surprise and something akin to wonder. "You trust me?"

Her skin, her entire body was humming. His hand slid down, tracing the line of her throat, the edge of her collarbone. Everywhere he touched was set ablaze. It was torture. It was superb, but it wasn't enough. Jess took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain her bearings. "Are you only going to tease me?" she asked. "Because if you're not up to it—"

Her words had the desired effect. His eyes narrowed and his lips caught hers, kissing her deeply. Unlike the night before, there was no hesitation; it felt like he wanted to devour her and god she was more than willing. "Keep your hands above your head," he said against her lips, and let go, both hands dropping to grip her hips and pull her closer, lifting her up. He was strong—stronger than she'd expected—and she let him lift her, wrapping her legs around his waist with a gasp.

Then his hand was between her thighs, his fingers sliding over the soft fabric of her panties. She felt him smirk against her mouth and nipped at his lower lip. Jess wasn't sure how he—oh—how he seemed to know just the right way to touch her. Maybe he was just good at reading her, gauging her reaction as he—the thought dissolved like smoke as he pulled her underwear roughly to the side and two fingers slid into her, his thumb pressing against the bundle of nerves that made her buck against him. "Oh fuck," she mumbled, her arms dropping down to drape over his shoulders, her fingers digging into his back.

His soft chuckle seemed to roll straight through her. "I thought I told you to keep your hands above your head?"

"They were—ah—getting tired." He raised his eyebrows and she tried to glare at him, before the insistent stroke of his fingers made her bite her lip to keep from moaning again. Suddenly desperate to be more than a passive participant, she slid one hand down his chest and up under the hem of his shirt. His body was fever-hot and she dragged her nails along the skin above the waistline of his jeans. "You really want me to put my hands back up? When I could do this instead?" She pressed her palm against the hard swell of his cock and his hips jerked, his breathing ragged.

His hand vanished, fingers sliding out of her and she almost cried out, begging him to come back. But he was pushing her hand out of the way and undoing his pants. "Jess, are you sure you want—" His eyes met hers and, again, her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Josh, so perfectly confident only a moment ago, suddenly seemed lost and more than a little uncertain.

"Do you?" She could feel him pressing into her slightly as he hesitated. They were in a public alleyway. The wall behind her was rough and cool and dug nearly painfully into her shoulders and back. Someone could come upon them at any moment and this was Josh. "Josh? Do you want this? Because… because I do. Please?" It came out more desperate than she'd planned, a needy plea.

Josh thrust into her and she cried out, her head falling back. He hissed, both hands grabbing her hips again and pulling her closer as he buried himself inside her. She couldn't think, couldn't even seem to breathe properly. Her legs tightened around him as she grabbed for his shoulders, clinging to him. "Oh god, Josh. Fuck. You're so—fuck." But just feeling him inside her, hard and hot and real, wasn't enough. She needed more. She needed to know that he—

Slowly, he pulled back and she whimpered. "Please, Josh. Please." Jess dragged her head back down to look at him; his eyes were watching her every reaction hungrily, his pupils huge and black.

"Please what? What do you want?"

She wanted to smack him, to shake him, to force him to stop playing games, but something in his voice stopped her. It was that same uncertainty from before. Her voice, when she spoke, was breathy and weak with want. "You. Josh, I want you. Please. God. Fuck me. Please." It might have made her blush if she didn't need him so desperately, but she didn't care.

He let out a long, unsteady breath. His hands tightened on her, holding her up and angling her simultaneously as he began to thrust in earnest, driving into her with hard, fast strokes that made her back arch and legs clench. She bit down on his shoulder to keep from making too much noise and heard him bite off a broken moan. Josh was so much more than she'd considered in her idle high school fantasies: stronger, bigger, and far more intense. Need spiked through her as she caught his pattern and moved with it, urging him on, deeper and harder. The roiling, exquisite pleasure building inside her was making it hard to think, hard to breathe. "Ah—oh fuck!" She clung to him, her nails digging into his back.

His hand clapped over her mouth just as it hit her like lightning, catching her scream and muffling it. Her body spasmed, clenching around him even as he continued to thrust into her. He dropped his hand from her face to pull her in and kiss her with bruising force. She wanted to feel him reach the end, to know he'd gone with her over the edge. His rhythm was breaking down, sending fresh, tantalizing waves of pleasure through her. Jess shuddered and moaned softly as he buried himself in her again, his body tensing and pulsing inside her.

"Oh fuck, Jess," he mumbled, his forehead dropping to rest against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, fingers burying themselves in his curls even as her body continued to tremble in the aftermath of what had happened. "Holy fuck."

She giggled. "So witty."

"Shut up."

"Never."

He raised his head and kissed her again, slow and sweet. After the urgency of what had come before, it seemed almost ridiculously gentle. "I didn't think—" Josh cleared his throat. "Can you stand?"

"I… I honestly don't know." She laughed again, breathlessly. "Let's find out."

Josh lowered her carefully and she leaned on the wall as her legs remembered how to hold her up properly. She found she was having trouble thinking of what to say. To cover the silence, she concentrated on trying to make herself look presentable again, tugging her skirt down and adjusting her shirt. From the corner of her eye, she saw Josh doing the same. She looked ruefully at the spilled slushies, now melted puddles of oddly colored goo. "So much for that, huh?"

"I'll buy you another one if you want." Josh shoved his hands in his pockets. He was tensing up again. She could see it in the set of his shoulders and the way he didn't seem to want to look at her. She poked him in the ribs, where he'd seemed ticklish at the beach, and was rewarded by him jumping and glaring at her. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Well, two things, really." She ticked them off on her fingers. "One: to prove that you are, in fact, ticklish. You are and I know it, which means you are thoroughly doomed. Two: You're brooding or whatever and I'm going to tell you right now that I don't want to see any of that when you just got laid. That's dumb." Jess snapped her fingers and pointed at him triumphantly. "Three! Three things! You did spill my drink and yes, you definitely do owe me a new one. So let's go."

He stared at her for a moment, then laughed, throwing his head back and laughing in a way she hadn't heard since back before that awful night when Hannah had run out into the snow.

The cashier at the 7-11 gave her an odd look when they walked in and she was fairly sure he could guess exactly what they had been up to, but she swirled cherry and Coke slushy together in her cup and decided that she didn't care in the slightest.


	8. Other People's Lives

**Chapter Eight:**

 **Other People's Lives**

Cupping her hands around her hot chocolate, Ashley tried to breathe evenly. She hated coming to these things almost as much as she loved it, which was a very unsettling feeling. The plastic chair was uncomfortable even with its thin vinyl padding and she shifted, trying to get comfortable. Matt flashed her a comforting smile from across the table and Chris put his hand on her back, rubbing it in a small circle.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Oh yeah. Totally. Totally fine."

He frowned, his forehead creasing. If he wasn't careful, he was going to start getting wrinkles soon. She wanted to tease him about it, but couldn't muster up the energy. "Ash, you know you don't have to be here, right?"

"No! No. I want to be here. I do." She smiled and nodded, then took a sip of her too-hot hot chocolate and sputtered. "Ow."

They were just waiting on Mike and Sam. Emily sat slouched in her seat, her latte untouched on the table in front of her. She was fiddling with her phone. Ashley was fairly certain she was trying to look like she was texting, but from the repetitive motion of her fingers, she was pretty sure Emily was just playing solitaire as a way to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

The bell on the bakery door chimed merrily as Mike shoved it open. He gave them a quick wave and headed to the counter. R&A Bakery had been a big thing in high school. It was within walking distance to the campus, so everyone could get there, even if they didn't have a car, and they were open from 5 a.m. until 10 p.m., which made them ideal for both pre-school and post-practice. Ashley had always had a theory that she could map out a schedule of when each group and clique went if she tried, though she never had. Now, of course, it served a different sort of purpose for them.

It had started accidentally, really. Chris had gone there for a bear claw—his old favorite breakfast for before band—and run into Matt, who'd had a similar urge. They got to talking and were surprised when, an hour later, Em had shown up for her own nostalgic treat. It had spiraled from there, with them returning and bringing the others along. Eventually it became a kind of routine. No one had returned to school yet and Ashley suspected they all were just desperate for a bit of normalcy, a taste of what their lives had been before everything had gone so completely insane.

And, with all of them together, their talks had turned to the subject of the mountain and what had happened. The hardest part, Ashley had said more than once, was how no one believed them. The cops had settled on the idea of it being a wild animal attack paired with a prank that got out of hand. It hurt to think about and was worse to say. She couldn't stomach the lie and was convinced she was developing ulcers at the ripe old age of 18. So they shared their stories and tried to piece together exactly what had happened that night, and the night a year before, when the girls had run out into the woods.

Only Jess and Josh were missing from their informal, unnamed club. Josh was on house arrest, from what Ashley understood. She wasn't entirely sure why there weren't charges being laid against him, but she didn't really want to have to talk about it with any more authorities or doctors. Chris had assured her that he was being looked after and that entire armies of specialists were going to make sure he never did anything like that ever again. The blond was the only one who even saw Josh these days. Sam didn't even like to say his name. She always referred to the man in the mask as 'The Psycho' if she mentioned him at all.

Jess was still too injured to leave her house. Ashley had thought about visiting her, but couldn't work up the nerve to do it. She liked Jess. She was fun to be around and always had some crazy idea up her sleeve. But Ashley had always been slightly afraid she would do the wrong thing and become the focus of Jess's enmity. It might have been an unfair level of paranoia, but she couldn't help it.

Besides, the bulk of the group's conversation centered on the wendigos and how they had moved, what they had been and done. So it made sense to have the people who had most interacted with the monsters. Matt, who hadn't actually seen one, even when he'd been lost in the mine after the fire tower collapsed, was mostly there because he had been there from the beginning. She was glad he was, though. He had a calming presence and was often the voice of reason when things got agitated.

Mike slid into the chair next to her, startling her out of her reverie. "Sorry I'm late."

"Sam's not here yet," Chris said, shrugging. "You're good."

"Well, as long as I'm not the _most_ late." He looked stressed out, his eyes a little unfocused and his smile not as easy as it usually was.

"Hey…" Matt seemed to have noticed too. "You okay, man?"

He sighed and absently rubbed his disfigured hand. "It's nothing. It's—" Sighing again, he popped the lid off his coffee and blew on it. "Jess. She's, well… she's off her stay-at-home restriction—."

"But that's good, isn't it?" Em sounded annoyed.

"—she also broke up with me."

Emily snorted at the same time Matt said: "Oh. Dude, that sucks."

"When?" Ashley asked, sympathetically.

"Few days ago. Have any of you heard from her?"

They all shook their heads. Then Emily cleared her throat pointedly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you want to end it anyway?"

"I never said that!"

She rolled her eyes. "Right. Because you're a very subtle man who never makes things incredibly clear without saying them aloud. God, Mike. It was kind of obvious."

He looked stunned. Ashley toyed with the paper sleeve on her cup and took a small sip. Outside, through the open glass walls of the shop, she saw Sam's car pull into the lot and circle around to a space near the bakery.

"What do you mean?" she heard Mike ask.

No one wanted to look at him. Ashley _hadn't_ realized, but then she remembered the weird way he'd spoken about Jess since they'd come back, the kind of weird detachment he'd displayed when they mentioned her. In retrospect, it did make sense. And if there was one thing she knew about Jess, it was that Jess was pretty good at reading people. That was why the prank on Hannah had been so incredibly effective and devastating.

"You don't want me to answer that question," Emily commented, raising her eyebrows in challenge as she finally picked up her drink and tasted it.

The bell rang again as Sam rushed in, looking harried and out of breath. "Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't think it would take so long to get here." Ashley smiled at her, feeling that familiar friendly level of jealous she always felt of Sam. Even rushed and sweaty, Sam looked great. She'd obviously been at the gym or something; she was wearing leggings and a tank top, a jacket tied around her waist and a headband holding back the tendrils that had fallen loose from her ponytail. She looked like an athletic ad or something, like she should be jogging up Placerita Canyon with a dog at her side, smiling at the morning sun.

At least it was so far from anything Ashley could ever hope to be that the envy was only a vague, nebulous thing. Besides, it was hard to be mad at Sam. Truthfully, Ash was more than a little awed by her. After everything Josh had done, Ashley felt like she'd just turned into a nervous, gibbering idiot. Sam, by contrast, had turned into an action hero.

Oh well. There were roles for all of them, Ashley thought, drinking more of her hot chocolate. And she'd always known she wasn't the action hero type.

"Oh, it's fine," Emily said, smiling coldly at Mike. "We were just hearing about the totally shocking breakup that happened."

"What?" The blonde dropped into a chair and stared at Mike. "You and Jess?"

Mike groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. "You didn't see it coming? I guess that makes me feel a _little_ better."

"Um… give me a sec and let me grab a water, okay?" She patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, shoved herself to her feet again, and hurried up to the cashier.

Ashley loved these meetings and hated them. She took a small bite of her ham and cheese croissant and settled in for what promised to be an interesting, if stressful, time.

-o-

Matt drummed along to the song on the radio, his fingers tapping the steering wheel with a rhythm he knew was off. He looked through the driver-side window up at the house. All the lights were on and even inside his car with the music running, he could hear the rowdy party happening. People were on the lawn and street, shouting and laughing and throwing up and generally fulfilling every college party stereotype he could imagine.

 _I'm here._

 _Green truck._

 _In case you're too wasted to remember what my car looks like._

He tried to fight his impatience as he waited. It wasn't like he wanted to be here, but he also didn't really have anything better to do, so he supposed it more or less evened out. "Come on," he muttered. Three girls stumbled past his car and shrieked with laughter that seemed alien to him now. Once upon a time, this was what he'd imagined for his college experience.

Someone fumbled with the passenger side door and he leaned over and opened it, raising his eyebrows as Mike all-but fell into the cab. "Graceful."

"Thank you!" Mike said proudly with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. He was slurring slightly, but Matt had seen him worse. "And also thank you for picking me up. Real gentlemanly move, my friend. A-plus friendsmanship. Thumbs up. Like. Poke. Etcetera."

"Do not poke me." Pulling away from the curb, Matt kept the car inching along as slowly as possible, just in case one of the party-goers did something stupid. "I'll make your drunk ass walk."

Shoving himself up in the seat and fumbling with the seatbelt, Mike pouted. "I'm not drunk." It took him four tries to get it buckled and he laughed. "I'm not _that_ drunk. But you try being in there without a drink. It's like… being the hall monitor during a pep rally."

"I have no idea what that means."

"Me neither. It'd probably suck though, right?"

Matt continued to drum his fingers on the wheel as he drove. He had the odd urge to apologize to Mike. He'd had it for a while—ever since they'd gotten back from the mountain. They hardly saw each other now, going to different schools, but they'd been teammates and friends once and he felt… It was irrational. Matt knew that. But he still felt like he'd somehow let down his team by being away from the action. He hadn't even seen the monsters, really, except for little flashes here and there that were gone before he could even figure out what they were.

And while everyone else had suffered so much, he was fine. The only mark on him still was the gash across his palm from the fire tower. Everything else had healed without a mark. Plus, it's not like a cut on the hand was anything to complain about when your friend had lost his fucking fingers. "So…" he said finally. "Have fun?"

Staring out the window, Mike snorted mirthlessly. "Yeah. Was great. I love getting drunk and having people try to force girls on me."

"I have no idea if that's sarcasm or not, because I'm pretty sure that actually is something you like."

His gaze rolled around to Matt and he frowned. "I don't know. Is it? I guess it used to be, theoriti—theorti—whatever. It's my housemates. Dan found out that Jess dumped me so the guys kidnapped me from my Mom's and dragged me out to get me breakup laid or whatever you want to call it. I just should have not told him. 'stead I spent the night drinking shitty beer and shitty liquor and having my eardrums broken by the stereo and being all dumb and awkward while everyone kept trying to introduce me to girls." He groaned and pressed his palms against his eyes. "So dumb."

Matt sighed and shook his head. He'd have to go see Jess soon and ask her about Mike. Not that he blamed her at all. Jess's low tolerance for bullshit wouldn't have dealt well with Mike and his weird overprotectiveness. He remembered back when she'd still danced and she'd hurt herself before a show. The slightest hint of a suggestion that she sit it out had been met with an icy stare that he never wanted to see again. Then she'd danced on her ankle anyway and made it worse, but that was neither here nor there.

"Well I'll get you home, dude. You can sleep off the crappy booze and rethink your life."

"Feels like that's all I'm doing these days." Mike's voice was sleepy and miserable.

A question occurred to him. "Hey, Mike?"

He grunted.

"Why did you text me?"

His friend gave him a slight, sad smile. "Who else would have texted me back at this point?"

-o-

Chris took a deep breath, shoved his glasses up his nose, and knocked on the door. There was a soft sound of movement, the shifting of cloth and paper, and then the door opened. Josh leaned in the frame, appraising Chris casually. He was growing to hate that expression: the lazy smile and slight layer of uncertainty he could feel beneath it.

"Conjugal visit? Dreams really do come true."

"Hardy-har har. You're hilarious." He stepped past Josh and into the bedroom. It might be a prison of sorts, but at least it was huge, Chris thought. He had always been totally jealous of Josh. The guy's room was large and had its own bathroom attached. Big windows looked out over the terrace and backyard. Evidence of Josh's evolving obsessions was everywhere, from the telescope in the corner that hadn't been touched in years to the archery equipment shoved onto a shelf.

He sat on the edge of Josh's neatly made bed, ignoring the clothing scattered across it. Josh was always like that—half disaster, half organized. The strap of Chris's watch cut into his wrist and he messed with it idly, trying to think of something to say. Josh shut the door and crossed to his desk, collapsing into the rolling chair and kicking his legs up to rest on the edge. "So…" his friend said, staring up at the ceiling. "Feeling guilty again?"

"What?" Chris frowned, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I assume you're feeling guilty about me and that's what prompted your visit today, yes? That's been the pattern so far, at least."

"I don't feel guilty."

"You shouldn't, but you do," Josh shot him an amused look and Chris scowled. His friend raised his hands defensively. "Hey man, you do you. If feeling bad makes you feel better, go for it. I, for one, choose to rise above such petty human emotions."

The bottom dropped out of Chris's stomach. It was a very Josh thing to say, but the familiar attitude didn't help. Not when he wanted Josh to feel guilt for what he'd done. Somehow, he still just didn't seem to get it. Chris would have thought that Sam never visiting, the constant doctors and new drugs and serious discussions… _something_ should have gotten through his thick Washington skull, and yet he seemed more relaxed and at ease than ever. In fact, Josh was spinning casually in his desk chair, using his feet to propel him in a slow circle as he smiled up at the ceiling.

And yet, for what felt like the thousandth time, Chris just couldn't come up with the words to try to make Josh see what he'd done. It didn't help that they weren't whispering-secrets friends and never had been. They were get-into-trouble friends. Watching-movies-and-melting-army-guys friends. Not quiet-moments, let's-talk friends. Maybe Sam should be here, but Chris couldn't force her to talk to Josh. He wasn't sure he'd even want to try.

Josh was right, too. Not about guilt being a pointless emotion, but about Chris's guilt existing. If he was being honest with himself, that really was a large part of why he kept coming back to visit. Because it was Chris's fault that Josh was here, locked away.

Sure, it wasn't _all_ Chris's fault, but from what he could see… at best he hadn't helped and at worst he was complicit in what Josh had done. He remembered Josh at the girls' funeral, drunk off his ass and laughing as Bob dragged him out. It was the last time he'd seen Josh in person until he'd seen him outside the lodge. That alone should have clued him in. He should have realized. He should have _known_ something was wrong.

Something was wrong with Josh.

But he hadn't. He hadn't connected the dots—or lack thereof—in his brain. And so he'd wandered straight into his best friend's pit of crazy without ever even pausing to consider why things felt odd. That was his fault. He'd been a shit friend. He knew it.

Of course, if they were judging quality of friends… "Fuck you," he said quietly. "Fuck you, Josh."

Josh froze for a moment, then continued his lazy rotation. "You're not my type."

There must be something broken in his brain too, Chris thought, for continuing to come back here over and over again. Wasn't that the definition of insanity? Trying the same thing over and over again and expecting different results? Well, that probably wasn't any kind of actual definition, but it sure was hard to shake. "You're an asshole."

"You knew that when you married me."

"So I'm both not your type and we're also married?"

"It is a sad and sexless marriage, I'm afraid."

It was like talking to a bad sitcom character. There was always some witty rejoinder. The blond man threw his arms in the air and flopped back onto the bed. "Jesus. You're impossible."

Josh laughed, a low, soft chuckle. "Impossibly gorgeous, maybe." He had the tone of quoting something, but Chris couldn't place it or bring himself to care enough to ask.

Something dug painfully into Chris's back and he shoved himself back up again. The dark green comforter was pulled tight and smooth, littered with shirts. Chris ran his hand over the surface of the bed and frowned as his hand hit something hard. Glancing over, he found Josh staring at him, eyes wide. He covered it quickly, his face relaxing back into the perfect, studied relaxed-and-amused expression he'd perfected in high school. "What the hell is that, Josh?"

He shrugged. "A book or something. I wasn't paying attention when I made the bed this morning."

"Bull-fucking-shit." Chris yanked the blankets down and grabbed the laptop. It looked vaguely familiar. It wasn't Josh's computer, obviously, since he knew for a fact that the Washingtons had taken all of Josh's electronics except his old, nearly-broken CD player. "What the _fuck_ is this?" His voice spiked annoyingly as he waved it in the air. "Is this Hannah's? Beth's? Where the hell did you get this?"

Josh rushed towards him, waving his hands. "No-no-no. Dude. Keep your voice down. Please."

"Why? Why the fuck should I? You _know_ you aren't supposed to have this. Why else would you hide it? And it such a shitty spot too. Idiot."

"No, okay, look. It's just… I'm just so bored. I'm so bored. I'm just browsing the web. That's it. Reading NPR articles and looking at colleges I'll never go to. Okay?" Chris hadn't heard Josh sound so anxious in a long time. It a weird way, it calmed his anger.

He raised his eyebrows. "So you do care about being locked up here? You don't just think it's some funny parental foible?"

Josh pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned. "Of course I care. This fucking sucks, bro. I hate this. I hate being locked in this house, in this stupid fucking room. Please, just…" He sighed, dropping his hands. He looked tired, Chris thought, but Josh always looked tired. "Do whatever you want. Tell Dad if you feel like you should. I just… I get so bored."

This was a mistake. This had to be a mistake. A bad idea. An A1 disaster of an idea. Chris looked at the laptop and considered. What could Josh do, locked up here, even if he did have internet access? It wasn't like any of them were talking to him anyway. And if he tried, the others would bust him instantly. It was all too easy to imagine being in Josh's situation, stuck in this house. It might be big, but he could see how the lack of freedom chafed at Josh.

He didn't want Josh to suffer.

That had been the most surprising realization after they'd gotten back from the lodge. He was angry at Josh. A large part of him hated Josh. But he also didn't want Josh to be in pain. He just wanted Josh to understand what he'd done, to feel even the slightest trace of guilt for his actions, and to work to get better.

That was really what it boiled down to: he wanted Josh to get better.

Carefully, Chris set the laptop back on the bed and pulled the covers over it again, smoothing them into place. He shot Josh a wry look and pointed at him. "Don't make me regret this, dipshit. Okay?" Josh's relieved, breathless laugh made Chris feel a little better about his decision. It might only be a small thing, but it made Josh seem slightly more human, slightly more like the cocksure-yet-insecure friend he'd known since childhood. He wagged his finger at Josh and repeated: "Don't make me fucking regret this."

-o-

The vodka burned Sam's throat as she drank and she broke off, coughing. On the couch, Emily raised her eyebrows. "Uh… Are you going to die, Sam? Because that wasn't the plan."

She waved the other girl's comment away and laughed bitterly. "No such luck." Em's eyes narrowed suspiciously and Sam rushed to continue. "I don't mean that. I'm not… I don't… Yeah. I'm good." Smooth, Sam. Smooth. Holding the glass up, she shook it, sending the remaining vodka sloshing up the sides. It looked so innocent—like water—but the smell made it clear that it wasn't.

The silence was more than a bit awkward. Honestly, Sam wasn't even sure why she'd ended up here. Sure, she knew the timeline and course of events that had resulted in her sitting in Emily's den drinking vodka, but the 'why' was a more elusive concept. It had started when she had dozed off in her car and had a nightmare about the Psycho chasing her through the streets of their city. The streets had been empty, but she'd been naked again, clinging to her towel for dear life. She'd woken up still hearing his husky voice. "Here little kitty. Here pussy pussy."

She'd wanted a drink. More than that, she'd wanted a way to forget, if only for a while. Sam had never been too much of a drinker. She'd have a drink at parties sometimes, but it had never really been her thing. It had always seemed too easy to lose control and the few times she'd overindulged and gotten crazy had left her feeling unsettled and anxious the next day.

Now she felt unsettled and anxious all the time, so really… Who gave a fuck?

The biggest problem was that, because she'd never been much for booze, she didn't have the slightest idea how to go about getting some. She didn't have a fake ID and her parents didn't have anything in the house except for the dregs of a bottle of wine from last week. That wasn't good enough. But there were two people in their group of friends who'd always been able to get their hands on alcohol: Josh and Emily.

Obviously only one of those was a viable option.

She took another sip, trying to keep from wincing. Emily snorted. "Wow. Not a vodka person?"

"Not really a drinking person," Sam said, taking another sip.

"And you texted me to drink because…?"

"Because I figured you were the one least likely to interrogate me." She raised her eyebrows pointedly at Em, who rolled her eyes.

"Just because I'm less nosy than Jess doesn't mean I'm not nosy at all. That's like looking at the Niagra Falls and assuming that no other waterfall exists."

"That is a very long, odd analogy. I like it though." Sam was a lightweight. She could already feel a slight humming in her lips and bit them as a test. That was always her surest way to tell how drunk she was getting. Her lips would feel like they were going numb. She scooted forward to drop off the chair and onto the carpet, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Thanks for this."

Emily shrugged. "You're the only one who seems to want to drink with me these days. Matt doesn't drink anymore, Jess—" She broke off, shrugging again. "And the last thing I want to do is hang out with any of my old… _friends_." Her mouth twisted slightly as she said it and she took a swallow of her own vodka, making it look easy.

"Okay, you need to teach me how to do that."

"What, drink?"

"Not cough every time you take a sip."

The other girl met her gaze evenly, face stony and set. "Drink more. That's how you get better at it. You drink. Like any self-respecting teenager."

"That…" Sam cast around for something to say. She really didn't know Emily that well. Was this the moment for a joke? Or for comfort? She took a small drink to stall for time and settled on: "…is depressing as hell."

Emily raised her glass in a grim salute and drained it. "True. But who am I to argue with the stereotypes well-defined by bad teen movies?" She set the glass down and stretched, arching her back and groaning slightly as she seemed to work through tension. They were sitting in the game room at Emily's house: a downstairs den that house two overstuffed leather sofas, some chairs, a pool table, and a bar. Sam had never been to Emily's house before and couldn't help but compare it to the Washingtons'. Both houses were huge—in fact, they were somewhat near each other—but the Davis house seemed more cleanly designed, even to Sam's untrained eye. It had a long, sloping driveway, a three-car garage, a grand entryway, and lemon trees all over.

Years spent with the Washingtons had helped to inoculate Sam against the intimidation of wealth, but Emily's family was different and it was throwing her off. The house didn't have any movie posters or awards or props placed on display, but she'd already spotted several paintings and she had the feeling that, if they were what she suspected they were, their insurance payments alone were worth more than her life.

That, and between Beth, Hannah, and Josh, the Washingtons' house had always possessed a kind of chaos, with books and clothes and other random stuff strewn here and there. Emily was an only child and moved in the hallways with a type of learned reverence. The rooms seemed arranged but untouched, like a perpetual open house.

Down in the game room, Emily seemed to relax a little, stripping off her sweater and tossing it over the arm of the sofa. She caught Sam's look and misinterpreted it, arching an eyebrow. "What? It's hot."

"Your house is really nice," she offered, taking another sip. As the alcohol did what it was supposed to do, she felt herself calming down a bit, her throat and stomach accepting the booze more easily. "Really, really nice."

Em's forehead creased in a frown and she poured herself more vodka. "I guess."

"No, it really is. I—"

"Sam, I have to ask you something." Emily wasn't looking at her, staring down at the glass in her hands. For a split second, her eyes darted up to Sam's, then away again. "…nevermind."

She laughed, startled, and leaned over to swat lightly at Emily's knee. Alcohol was making her bold, apparently, since Em's usual aura of hostility didn't bug her at all. "No way. Now you have to tell me. You mentioned it, which means it's important, which means that you, just, have to tell me. It's the law."

"No it isn't."

"Yep. Fairly sure. It's a law." Sam's smile faded and she gestured to Emily. "Come on. Seriously. We have to talk about something, right?"

"Do you really think Mike would have shot me?" The moment the words were out, Em closed her eyes, jaw clenching. She took a long drink, still pointedly not looking at Sam.

"Oh." Her stomach clenched painfully and she looked down into her glass, searching for something to say. It hadn't even occurred to her. After the realization about Hannah, the monsters, Josh… She had almost forgotten about the incident in the safe room. How could she have forgotten? Why hadn't she already talked to Emily about this? _You're such a good friend, Sam,_ she scolded herself. "Oh, Emily…" She reached forward to rest her hand on the closest part of Emily she could reach: her shin.

Her leg jerked away, her eyes springing open again. "Don't 'oh Emily' me. Forget I asked." She swirled her drink and tried to look casual, but now that the question had been voiced, Sam could see through Emily's uncaring façade.

She struggled for something to say, something to keep Em from flinching away again. Thinking for a long moment, Sam pursed her rapidly numbing lips. "No," she said finally. "I don't think he would have. Because he couldn't. You saw that."

"He wanted to."

"He did _not_ want to. Em, don't do that to yourself."

Emily's shoulders hunched defensively. "I'm not doing anything. It's—whatever. I know he hates me." Her voice dropped and she took another resigned drink. "Not like he'd be the first."

"Em—" Sam cut herself off before she could drop into the sympathetic tone the other girl hated so much. It wasn't meant to be pitying; it was pure empathy. She was angry at herself. How had she not thought about Emily? The fact that they weren't close friends shouldn't enter into it. She had let herself get so caught up in her own issues that she'd forgotten to check in on everyone else. "He doesn't hate you. Honestly, I think he's intimidated by you. Most of us are," she offered with a slight smile. "Em, he couldn't do it. And from what he's said… I think he hates that he even considered it. He couldn't have shot you any more than I could have shot you or anyone else. He—all of us—were panicking. That's not an excuse. Just an explanation."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not lying!" Sam set her glass on the coffee table and climbed awkwardly onto the couch next to Em. Again, she thanked her low tolerance and the disgusting vodka for letting her set aside her worries about Emily biting her head off. Although, truthfully, she didn't seem that much different than Beth sometimes. Beth had been prickly too. She hadn't liked anyone to see her weaknesses. Sam's never-voiced theory had been that Beth felt guilty showing emotions when her siblings were both such walking disasters already. "We're not that close, right?"

Emily gave a jerking, stubborn shrug instead of answering.

"We're not. So that's why you should believe me. I have nothing to lose by telling you the truth, right? Except possibly access to vodka, which is vile anyway." The other girl's head dropped forward, straight black hair hanging down around her face. Sam bumped Emily lightly with her shoulder. "That was a joke. The vodka part. Well, not that it's vile, since it is, but that I'm just using you for vodka."

"I'm fine," Emily muttered.

"Why?" Sam asked, frowning. "You shouldn't be. You don't have to be."

"Yeah right."

Leaning forward, Sam poured them each more vodka. She continued speaking, voice soft and thoughtful as she considered the situation. "You really don't, though. None of us are. I'm not sure why you'd be the exception. Mike's a mess. I know you haven't been around him much, but it's true. He's trying so hard not to fall to pieces that he's almost fooled himself, but he's not fine. You've seen Ashley. Chris is halfway in denial about everything, including the stuff with… the stuff with the Psycho. And I'm… I'm having nightmares. All the time. Every night. I'm sure the others are too. So you don't have the be 'fine,' Em. None of us would think less of you for talking about it or letting it show."

Rolling the glass between her hands, Em shook her head, hair swinging from side to side. "I don't give a shit what any of you think."

Sam's lips quirked up at that. "Don't lie," she said, aping Emily's earlier words. "You care way more than you want us to think. Don't worry, though. I won't tell everyone that Emily is actually a big ol' softie."

Her voice was flat. "I would kill you."

"You would try," Sam bumped her again and took a swig of vodka. It really wasn't so bad once you were warmed up. "I'm pretty sure I'm faster than you. I climb things too. I'd just zip up a tree and then you'd be screwed."

"Excuse me? I climbed too! I was a fucking _boss_ in the mine. Just because there weren't any witnesses doesn't mean it didn't happen." Emily tossed her hair over her shoulder and glared at Sam. "Actually, I did it in jeans and not in workout gear, which makes it even more impressive."

"Why?"

"Um, have you seen how tight my jeans are?"

Sam felt herself flush. As if anyone with eyes had missed the way that Em's jeans hugged the curve of her… She cleared her throat, her throat suddenly dry, and took another sip. "Good point." She dragged her mind back to their earlier topic. "Seriously, though. It's okay to be upset. You're human. That's a good thing."

After a long moment, Emily once more downed her drink. Sam couldn't tell how the alcohol was hitting the other girl, but there were spots of color high on her cheeks and she seemed looser, more relaxed. "I guess."

"Have you—um—have you had nightmares? About the mine?"

"No," Em said softly. "All my nightmares are about Mike. Or Matt. Or Jess. I get shot or Matt abandons me or Jess never gets found. I don't dream about the monsters. I probably should, huh?"

"Matt abandons you? Jess dies?" Sam prompted, drinking. Her lip was definitely numb now, her hands getting a little clumsy. "What do you mean?"

Rolling her eyes, Emily slumped back into the couch, her empty glass in her hands. "It's stupid. I guess I just knew… when the fire tower collapsed and Matt tried to help me, I just had this moment where… Do you ever have moments where a realization hits you? Hard, and out of the blue? I looked up at him, at his sweet, worried face, and I just thought 'he should ditch me.' I deserved it."

Sam chose not to comment on the last statement. "He didn't though. Matt didn't abandon you. He wouldn't do that. He cares about you."

She snorted, but her voice was fond. "Yeah. Idiot." Em kicked her feet up to rest on the table. Her toes, with their perfect, dark blue pedicure, pointed and flexed for a moment. "We broke up, you know?"

"Oh. No, I didn't."

"Not sure you can call it a break up, really, since it's not like we were really together. Just a plan that backfired." She glanced at Sam and her forehead furrowed, confused. "Why do you keep doing that?"

Sam started. "Doing what?"

"Biting your lip."

She giggled. "Oh, it's just this dumb thing I do to figure out how drunk I am. My lower lip goes numb." Reaching for the bottle, she fumbled grabbing it and her smile grew. "Jeez. Okay. Maybe I should slow down. So… why were you with him then? What was the 'plan'?"

"I don't know. Something about getting back at Jess."

"For stealing Mike?"

Emily burst out laughing. "Oh my god. No. Mike can go fuck himself. She certainly didn't steal him from me. That would imply that I lost something by not dating him anymore." Slowly her laughter calmed and she poured herself and Sam more vodka. "I—god, it's so stupid." Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair and took a sip. Her eyes softened and she looked sadder than Sam could remember ever seeing. "How did you know? With Beth?"

At the mention of Beth's name, Sam went still. It felt like all her muscles were too weak to move. She'd hoped that maybe time or alcohol—or both—might help her stop reacting so painfully every time she even heard the name. It was manageable after a moment; it always was. Taking a steadying breath, she focused on Emily's fumbling question. "How did I know what?"

"Did she make the first move?" Em's voice had no hesitation, but she sounded oddly distant, lost in her own thoughts. "Or did you? Or did it just sort of happen spontaneously at the same time?"

These memories were warm. Thinking back on Beth's nervously fidgeting hands and awkward smile, Sam felt the ache of loss ease slightly. It was nice to focus on the good things, even if that seemed increasingly difficult. "We danced around each other for a while. I was always over, because of Han, and things just got more and more tense. Good tense. But she was my friend first, you know? It wasn't until…" She wasn't sure if she was allowed to talk about the night they'd first kissed. It felt like betraying a confidence. The moment she realized what her hesitation was, though, she quashed it and plowed forward. She didn't owe Josh anything. Not anymore. "The night Josh tried to kill himself. She called me in a panic and I went over to see her. Han wasn't home. Han didn't know until later. But she was so upset that I wanted to comfort her and she—she was a lot like you. You guys are kind of scary. Hard to comfort."

Emily made a grumpy, offended noise and Sam reached out to tap Em's bare toes with her sock-covered ones, smirking. "You are. You know you are, Miss Bitch-Queen. You're not allowed to get offended that someone interprets your behavior exactly the way you want it to be interpreted. Anyway. It just sort of happened. I kissed her and she kissed me back and it went from there. It just felt right." She flashed Emily a self-deprecating smile. "Sorry. That was pretty rambling of me."

"Jess kissed me," Em said abruptly.

"…oh. Um… when?"

"After winter formal." She glanced at Sam, who couldn't read her expression. Taking another drink, she continued, voice still oddly detached. "I kissed her back, but it… I wasn't… I'm not sure if I…"

Sam waited in the silence, studying Emily. Then she asked, as gently as possible: "If you like girls? Or if you like her specifically?"

"Both." A breathless, frustrated laugh burst from Emily as she threw her free hand into the air. "Oh my god. I can't believe I'm talking about this."

"Wait, seriously?" Sam scooted over on the couch, turning and folding her legs under her as she regarded her friend. "You haven't talked about this with _anyone_? That was ages ago. But then… What was up with your falling out and Mike and Matt and all that—" Sam's eyes widened, her inebriated brain putting the pieces together slowly. "Oh. You turned her down."

A nod confirmed the theory.

"And you were kind of a bitch about it, huh."

"Hey! I didn't mean to. I just freaked out. I don't know. I also never…" She shoved Sam's shoulder lightly and overbalanced, a bit of her drink splashing onto her pants. "Shit! _Fuck_!"

The level of anger and agitation in her voice seemed far more than what was reasonable for a small amount of clear liquid landing on black pants. Quickly, Sam grabbed her sweatshirt from where it rested on her original chair and pressed it against Emily's leg to soak up what little vodka had spilled. But she wasn't just upset about the spill, Sam knew. It was more than that. She remembered the first crush she'd had on a girl—Jemma with the pretty curls back in fifth grade—and the worries she'd had. Sam had been lucky. She'd had years of self-awareness and a supportive family and great friends and Beth. If Em hadn't even considered this until her best friend had kissed her?

Sam pulled her sweatshirt back into her lap and considered. Ultimately, she settled on being blunt. It was Emily Davis, after all. "Do you like Jess like that?"

Emily flinched, hesitated, then finally gave a gesture that was half shrug and half head-shake. "I don't know. I don't think so. Or at least, not now, with Jess so… I couldn't deal with it if she was hurt even more. Not after everything else." Another irritated groan. "Jesus. I sound so fucking ridiculous. You wanted to get drunk and now you're listening to me babble mindlessly about stupid shit that doesn't matter. It's fine. It's all—"

"Emily?" The girl looked at her and Sam smiled. "Don't do that. At least with me, okay? And I don't just mean when we're drinking. Can you stop pretending like you don't have feelings? It's getting kind of old. Especially now that I know you have an actual heart under there." She reached out unthinkingly and brushed her fingers against the thin white cotton over Emily's chest. If she was worried the gesture might seem overly intimate, Emily didn't seem to think so. Or at least, she didn't seem to mind. "Personally, I like this version of Em. She's much less scary."

"You were never scared of me. You aren't scared of anything."

Sam's smile faded. "I wish that was true. And besides, aren't you the one who isn't scared of anything?" Emily's hand found hers, their fingers intertwining.

There wasn't any more she could say after that. She let her head fall to rest on Em's shoulder. The room smelled like vodka and perfume she realized now was Emily's: jasmine and pear and other flowers she couldn't name. The silence, far from being uncomfortable, was like a blanket wrapping them both up. Em's warm fingers felt like trust, like a small but beautiful gift.


End file.
